


Hold On To Nothing

by BlueMaize



Category: Flashpoint (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Sentinels and Guides Are Known, Angst, Dark fic, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-05
Updated: 2016-10-01
Packaged: 2018-04-30 05:04:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 30
Words: 67,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5151329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueMaize/pseuds/BlueMaize
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the wake of a tragedy, the three latent Sentinels of Team One come online. Faced with the disbandment of their team, they're desperate to keep the family together but resentful of the need for a Guide. </p>
<p>Spike, a reluctantly unique Guide, becomes the unwanted solution to Team One's problem. But Spike has troubles of his own, trapped within the authority of the Sentinel Guide Commission and at the mercy of the machinations of one Dr. Larry Toth.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Solutions

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by Susan Foster's GDP series.

“I’m sorry Greg, Ed, Sam.” Commander Holleran acknowledged each officer in turn. “Until we find a solution to the three of you coming online, I’m taking Team One off shift, permanently. We’ll give it two weeks and then I’ll be looking to redistribute Callaghan, Wordsworth and Kearns to other teams.”

Holleran left them to it and they discussed the problem amongst themselves. 

“We can’t have three Guides in the field. Maximum is one per team and only if they’re police or military trained. One Guide wouldn’t be enough to stabilise all of us even if we could get one allocated.” Greg said what they were all thinking.

It looked fairly hopeless. They had spent their first few days on leave dealing with the shock of Lou’s death while the three newly online Sentinels tried to get a handle on their senses. Now they were dealing with the inevitable break-up of their team. 

***

A few days after their meeting with Holleran, Greg was at home, trying to cope as best he could with his new found senses. He groaned and covered his ears when his phone rang. He’d turned the volume down to the lowest setting but the sound was still like a drill through his head. Focusing hard, he managed to dial down his hearing to a more manageable level before answering the call.

“Sergeant Parker, it’s Dr. Larry Toth. Do you have a moment to talk?”

“Of course Dr. Toth, what can I do for you?” Greg asked in surprise. Toth was one of the last people Greg had expected to hear from.

“I heard about your Team’s remarkable Sentinel awakening and I think I have a solution to your problem…”

***

Toth had originally been being a military psychologist which was how Greg knew him but, as he explained to Greg over the phone, in more recent years he had developed an interest in Sentinel and Guide deployment in the field. He invited Greg to come and speak with him in person.

Greg arrived at Toth’s office and was pleased to find a soothing environment and a white noise generator.

“How are you handling coming online?” Toth asked as Greg took a seat.

“It’s been a difficult few days.” Greg admitted, wincing at the scratchy feeling of the chair’s material under his sensitive hands.

“As you know I’ve done of lot of research into the use of Sentinels and Guides within the military and police. The way I see it, your problem is clear: too many Sentinels.”

Greg couldn’t see where Toth was going with this. “I’ve done the math Larry, even if sufficient numbers were available, we can’t have three Guides in the field.”

“What if I told you you only needed one?”

Greg straightened up. “How?”

“I know of a Guide. He was latent, like you. He came online about a few years ago. He’s quite an unusual case. Much broader range than the average Guide. Wide compatibility. I’ve done multiple field tests with him. He shows a unique capability for stabilising multiple Sentinels over quite a significant range. He’s completed the mandatory training and taken part in some military missions. We’ve been trying to find a more permanent placement for his particular abilities.”

“And you think placing him on Team One is a possibility?” Greg asked cautiously. He didn’t want to get his hopes up.

“I think so. There will need to be a discretionary clause in his contract to allow for his participation in military operations but they shouldn’t be frequent enough to disrupt your team’s schedule.”

This was sounding better and better to Greg. A chance to keep Team One together and for the new Sentinels to utilise their talents to the full. 

“What’s the next step?” Greg asked.

“I think you should meet him. See what you think. And we’ll go from there.”

***

Spike was lying in a field, as far from the surrounding buildings as he could get. It was quiet and peaceful. There was a horse grazing nearby but its presence was soothing, its demeanour calm. Suddenly craving contact with another living thing, he got to his feet and made his way slowly towards the animal. As he approached the horse paused in his grazing and raised its head to consider Spike. 

He reached out a hand and stroked its nose, feeling the warmth and coarse hair under his fingers.

The feeling of peace and contentment was interrupted by the arrival of another person in his Guide range. And not just a person. A Sentinel. 

His range seemed to fluctuate daily. It never dropped below two hundred metres but had extended beyond a mile on a few occasions.

He cast his eyes around for the stranger about to interrupt his isolation and caught sight of a man quite a distance away approaching on foot. His range must have been close to half a mile today to have detected him while he was still so far off. 

Given the man was making his way directly towards him, it would have been polite for Spike to meet him halfway. But having a fairly good idea why the man was there, given the eagerness he could already feel the man exuding, he chose to stay put and let the Sentinel come to him.

He turned his mind back to the horse, who seemed to be enjoying Spike’s attentions. But the encroaching Sentinel was taking more and more of his concentration until a voice called out. 

“Hi there. It’s Mike isn’t it? Mike Scarlatti?”

Sighing, Spike gave the horse one last pat before turning to face the approaching Sentinel.

“Hi.”

He could sense the Sentinel’s earnestness and the fact that he was exuding friendliness and trustworthiness. That was new. Usually the people they sent exuded dominance and authority.

“I’m Gregory Parker. Do you mind if I call you Mike?” 

Spike gave a shrug. “Sure, if you like. Are you military?” He asked, knowing there was no way this guy was military. But he was something.

“Police actually. Strategic Response Unit.” Yep, that was something. 

“Ah, the guys with the cool pants.” SRU were fairly legendary, Spike had seen them in person a handful of times during his police days. He’d even considered trying out for them once he got enough experience under his belt, but his suddenly coming online as a Guide had put paid to that and a lot of other plans.

Greg gave a laugh at Spike’s response. “That’s right. We’ve got the cool pants.”

“So what can I do for you… Sergeant Parker.” Spike took a guess at the man’s rank. He looked old enough to have climbed a rank or two but fit enough to still be in an active post.

“Dr. Toth sent me. My team has a rather unique problem and he felt you might be in a position to help us out.”

Spike was unsurprised at the mention of Dr. Toth’s name and struggled to prevent a shudder. That man had been a pain in the proverbial almost from the moment Spike had come online. What now, he wondered.

“What kind of a problem?” Spike asked, keeping his tone light and not letting his demeanour betray his thoughts. He knew the Sentinel would be keenly aware of Spike’s reactions not to mention an expert in reading body language if he was SRU.

“Our six-person team lost a man two weeks ago. In the process, our three latent Sentinels, myself included, came online. Rules are pretty clear - we can’t take more than one Guide into the field. I’ve been told with you that wouldn’t be a problem.”

Well, there it was. The reason the Sentinel was standing in the middle of nowhere talking to Spike. He had a problem and Spike was the solution.

“I’m sorry about your team mate.” It must have been something pretty traumatic to bring all three Sentinels online. “Was he a Guide?” 

“Thank you. Not exactly. They suspect now he was a latent Guide and came online shortly before he died, which is what..”

“Woke the rest of you up.” Spike finished for him.

“Something like that.” Greg agreed. “Dr. Toth has suggested you might be a good fit for our team. You’d still be able to take part in the occasional military operation, your attachment to SRU wouldn’t interfere with that, but your day to day job would be with us.”

“As a Guide.” Spike clarified. 

“As our Guide.” Greg confirmed. “As I’m sure you know, we’re a tactical unit. We handle situations involving firearms, hostage situations, bomb threats and serving high-risk arrest warrants. It’s not an easy job but Dr. Toth feels that you’d be up to the challenge.”

Spike, becoming resigned to his fate and aware it was probably saving him from a worse fate, at least temporarily, tried to keep his voice level. “Well Dr. Toth certainly knows his stuff.”

“That he does. So listen Mike, I won’t take up any more of your time. Have a think about it, see if this is something that might interest you and let us know. You can come and meet the team, visit headquarters and see what it’s all about before you make up your mind, okay?”

“Sure thing, Sergeant Parker. I’ll let you know.” It was almost amusing to Spike that the Sergeant thought Spike actually had a choice in this. In reality his mind had been made up for him, a hundred times over.

He felt the presence of the Sentinel for a lot longer than he should have as he walked away. When Spike was finally alone again, the solitude no longer gave him the comfort it once had.

***

That went well, Greg thought to himself, as he made his way back to his car. 

The effect was remarkable; long before he’d caught sight of Mike in the distance, he had felt a steadying of his senses. His hearing, which had been bothering him consistently for the previous week, suddenly settled and he found his control much improved.

He noticed the effect fade after he’d walked almost the mile to where he’d parked. Mike’s range, as it was, was phenomenal, though Toth had warned that Mike’s consistent range was closer to a few hundred metres.

He made the decision not to tell the rest of the team until he’d heard back from Mike. He didn’t want to get their hopes up if the young Guide wasn’t interested in joining them. He’d read some of his file though; what little Toth released to him. He knew Mike had had some prior experience in the police force which would come in handy.

When he returned to the car he called Dr. Toth. 

“Hi Dr. Toth. Yes, I met Mike. An impressive young man. We’d be happy to have him as our Guide if he’s willing to consider it. I’ve invited him for a visit and to meet the rest of the team.”

“That’s great Greg, I’m glad you liked him. I’ll talk to him and we’ll be in touch.”

***

Greg was surprised when Toth rang him the next day and confirmed that Mike would be happy to take the position as Guide for Team One.

“He doesn’t want to visit and get a feel for the place first?” Greg asked.

“It’s an exciting opportunity Greg, what young man wouldn’t grab it with both hands?”

Immensely relieved, Greg called the Team together to break the news. 

“We’re getting a Guide? One Guide?” Ed asked. 

“One with a unique ability to stabilise multiple Sentinels in the field, which is exactly what we need.” Greg stressed.

“He stays in the truck. We are not babysitting a civilian in the field.” Ed added. 

“Of course. But he did train in the police academy and worked as a Constable for three years before he came online as a Guide.”

“Doesn’t make him SRU material.” Ed said firmly. “He’s here as a Guide. We can’t blur the lines on that. He’s here to perform a function.”

“Ed’s right. I mean, if I had a choice, I’d go back to being latent, but if this is the only way to keep the Team together, than I guess this guy is it.” Sam added.

“Jules, Wordy, Leah?” Greg asked the rest of their team. 

“If this is what’s going to work for us, then I guess this is what we need to do.” Wordy said. Jules and Leah nodded in agreement.

***

Spike’s meeting with Dr. Toth went as expected. 

“Team One need a Guide and we need to see how more long term use of your Guide talent works. We will still need to bring you back to the lab on occasion.”

Spike tried hard to mask his reaction to the mention of the lab but he knew Toth picked up on it. He always did. Toth feigned surprised when Spike failed to show appropriate enthusiasm for his new position.

“I thought you’d have been pleased. You’ll be back in your home city, living near your parents.”

When Spike didn’t respond, he continued.

“We’re going to change the conditions somewhat compared to your previous missions. I want zero physical contact with the Sentinels once the initial training period is over with only superficial linkage during training. All stabilising of their senses and maintaining of your empathic shields is to be done remotely. I’ll increase your rescue injection dosage for the first few weeks while you settle in but I expect your requirement to reduce as time passes.”

“What about my… empathic problem?” Spike was cautious in how he phrased the question, but it was the reason he was presently living out in the middle of nowhere.

“You should have sufficient Sentinel contact that it won’t be a problem.” Toth said firmly.

“Do they know?” Spike asked tentatively. 

“No, that is on a need to know basis as always. They don’t need to know and you aren’t going to tell them. Are we understood?”

“Yes, Dr. Toth.” Spike held back a sigh. “When do I start?”

“You’ll meet the Team the day after tomorrow and do a week of training with them.”

“Training?” Spike perked up a bit. Maybe he’d actually get to do something. 

“Yes, they’ll practice some exercises in their headquarters and in the field and test out their control and your range. You’ll have a chance to fine tune your compatibility. You’ll be classed as a civilian, so you will be kept out of harm’s way at all times.”

Ah, that sort of training. The kind where Spike’s brain slowly fried from trying to manage the barrage of emotions from every human in a few hundred metre radius while allowing the power tripped Sentinels to get full utilisation of their senses.

All Guides were empathic, that was an element of their genetic make up. Most Guides empathy only worked when they were in physical contact or mere feet from another person, with a slightly longer range for their bonded Sentinel. Spike had had the misfortune (or unique and unusual talent, as Dr. Toth had pronounced it) of having an empathic range that was tied to his guiding range. The emotions of every person within that range were open to him, a constant drain on his mind and body.

“I think that’s everything Mike, unless you have any further questions. I’ll be in regular contact with you once your placement starts. We’ll have once weekly meetings at first while you settle in, alongside regular blood tests.”

And just like that Spike was dismissed. He left the office and made a beeline for the front door, wanting to get as far away from all the people as he could and enjoy the solitude afforded by the remote location. It could be a long time before he got the chance to return.


	2. Unwelcome Arrival

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fic Trivia: Hold on to Nothing is the title of a David Gray song that happens to fit nicely with the theme of this story

Spike asked the cab driver to let him out a good distance from SRU headquarters. He was early and wanted the time to adjust and calm his empathy which was under strain from the trip through the busy city. He sensed the presence of the three Sentinels long before he neared the building. If they were half as strong as their testing suggested, they’d know he was there soon enough.

He forced himself to keep his gait unhurried and his nervousness under wraps, given he would shortly be surrounded by three Sentinels who could assess every change in his heart rate. He knew that would only be temporary though. The guide talent that let him connect so easily and guide so many also created a kind of blind spot for them when it came to him. If a Sentinel spent enough time around Spike, he became almost invisible to their senses unless they focused in on him.

He was unsurprised to find Sergeant Parker waiting for him at the entrance exuding nervous anticipation but trying to mask it with welcome and enthusiasm. Spike was tired from a night of buffering himself against the feelings of those around him. He was looking forward to the morning purely because he’d be around Sentinels and able to build up his empathic shields.

“Good morning Mike.”

“Morning Sergeant Parker.”

Spike followed the older man inside and got set up with an ID badge. He was aware of the other two active Sentinels in the building but the Sergeant took him for a tour around first.

Afterwards he was brought to meet the team who were gathered in the briefing room. He was aware that the situation he was walking into wasn’t anywhere near as accepting of his presence as Sergeant Parker. Dominant emotions were guardedness, suspicion and a certain amount of resentment. Not exactly unexpected in newly emergent Sentinels, he supposed. He’d mainly worked with well established Sentinels who were accepting of the need for Guides if not always careful or considerate of the Guide’s needs.

“This him?” One man asked, standing and looking Spike up and down, seemingly unimpressed. That he was a Sentinel was readily apparent. Sergeant Parker must have given him a look because he backed down as Spike hesitated just inside the door. 

“Team One, I’d like you to meet Mike Scarlatti. Mike, this is our team leader Ed Lane and the rest of the gang; Sam Braddock, Jules Callaghan, Leah Kearns and Kevin Wordsworth.”

“Hi, nice to meet you all.” Spike kept up the facade of the happy-go-lucky Guide, like he had when he first met Greg. There was a chorus of hello's from around the table but no one moved to shake his hand. A common courtesy generally avoided with working Guides but that in new situations made Spike feel like somewhat of a pariah.

Spike sought out the third Sentinel in the room, Sam Braddock. The blond haired man was sitting with arms folded, eyeing Spike suspiciously. 

It wasn’t a great reception. The Sentinels would already be benefiting from his presence and couldn’t have failed to notice the improvement in their control. That that hadn’t made them even somewhat accepting of him wasn’t a promising sign.

“Alright guys, we’ve a week of training before we’re re-evaluated. Let’s see if we can beat our last re-qualification scores.” Sergeant Parker rallied the troops and the team got up and filed out past Spike who turned and followed them.

Spike watched their training with interest at first. They did some warming up, running sprints outside in full gear. They moved on to the gun range. Spike noted Ed struggling with the balance of his sight and hearing as he practised. He moved to stand beside him and offered a few words of advice.

“Dial both senses right down then focus on something that only takes sight and leaving your hearing low. Then holding your sight at that level slowly dial the hearing up to a comfortable point.”

Ed continued to struggle as his hearing kept pace with his sight, which had to hurt, even with the ear protection. Spike placed a hand on Ed’s shoulder, to help improve his own compatibility with the Sentinel and bolster the Sentinel’s control at the same time. The Sentinel reacted immediately, shaking Spike’s hand off and taking a step back, eyeing him with disgust. 

“I thought the whole point of you is that you control our senses at a distance. Do you need physical contact?” His tone was scathing and his emotions burned like dry heat across Spike’s mind.

“Well, no.” He stuttered in response, taken aback.

“Then back off.” Ed spoke clearly before turning back to his target.

Spike retreated to the far wall and focused on improving his compatibility with the three Sentinels. He accomplished that by tuning in to them, like they were radio frequencies, and trying to sustain the frequency. It took more effort to do remotely what physical contact achieved automatically but his barriers weren’t strong enough to buffer the kind of emotion he suspected would be levelled at him from Sam and Ed if he insisted on physical contact.

After two hours he was exhausted and focused on building his barriers back up. The team were taking turns on the CQB course and the improvements in all three Sentinel’s response times was immediately apparent.

As they finished up Ed looked over their scores. “Not bad.” He concluded. “Not bad at all.” He glanced at Spike, looking marginally less hostile than he’d been at the gun range.

After lunch, the team wanted to continue training but Greg overruled them and instructed Spike to go home. “Thanks for coming in today Mike. We don’t want to tire you out your first day so you can head home now. We need to do some negotiation and role-play practice and we don’t need you for that.”

Spike took the out and went home, mentally exhausted and sore after the day. By the time he reached his apartment, his head was throbbing and his shields were frayed. He hadn’t had enough time around the Sentinels to build them up properly. Building empathic barriers couldn’t be done simultaneously while improving his compatibility so he’d chosen to neglect them. Realising his mistake as he didn’t have a remote field to escape to, he pulled out an injection pen from his emergency pack and quickly injected into his stomach. 

The medicine made him drowsy and he fell into bed, making sure to set his alarm for the following morning before he closed his eyes.

***

“Does he need to watch us train?” Sam asked after their role play. “I mean, can’t he just sit up here in the briefing room?”

Greg shook his head. “Guys, I know this is a difficult adjustment, but we should be grateful to have Mike here. For the next week at least, yes, he does need to be in close contact in order to establish compatibility with us.”

“And after that?” Sam asked.

“He’ll stay in the command truck on calls and here in the building otherwise. He doesn’t need to be here for workouts or debriefs. We don’t need him under our feet the whole time.” Ed said.

***

The rest of the week was easier. Spike put effort into building his shields every day to avoid a repeat of his first. His use of rescue medication was being carefully monitored by Dr. Toth and overuse would raise questions. 

He found the non-Sentinels on the team marginally more friendly than the Sentinels. Greg was the exception but, as the Boss, he had to keep himself one step removed. Other than the necessary time to build compatibility, Spike didn't have much contact with him. 

Things outside of work didn’t get easier. His barriers, while strong enough to avoid the need for rescue medication, weren’t enough to block a constant barrage of low level emotion from around him. He knew there was a correlation between the time he spent stabilising the three Sentinels and the time he needed to spend building his barriers but he hadn't worked out a balance. This hadn't been a problem before but on his military missions he'd been with the Sentinels 24/7.

They reached the end of the week and the Team’s requalification day. To ensure he got a good rest and performed optimally for his new Sentinels, he took another rescue injection the night before, gratefully falling into a blissfully unaware sleep.

Requalification was an unqualified success. The three Sentinels showed better accuracy and faster reaction times. Commander Holleran came to see them in the briefing room and gave them the results. There was a cheer around the room as he pronounced Team One fit for active duty. 

Spike was exhausted, having put all his effort that day into bolstering the Sentinel’s senses to give them the best chance of success. He’d paid little attention to his shields but felt sure that the Team would be socialising that evening to celebrate their requalification which would give him a chance to build his barriers in more relaxed surroundings and get to know the team a bit better.

Commander Holleran and Sergeant Parker wanted a few words in private so the rest of the team filed out. Spike went to get his coat from the locker room. He could hear the others discuss the plan for the evening as they changed. As he walked towards the door, he saw Sam pause to look at him. Their eyes met for a moment then Sam spoke. “See you Monday Mike.” Then he turned back to continue his conversation with Wordy and Ed.

Spike stood frozen for a moment watching the three men before he realised that no invitation to join them would be forthcoming. He turned and slowly walked out of the building. Outside the door, he paused, realising just how low his barriers were. Walking around the side of the building he took a seat on a low wall out of sight of the doors and CCTV. He was confident that by now the Sentinels had established blind spots to him and wouldn’t notice his continued presence. It was cold out and he wrapped his coat tightly around him. Closing his eyes, he focused on building up his barriers. He had three nights and two days to get through before he got more Sentinel contact and he didn’t want to spend them throwing up from the pain in his head.

He was more than a little grateful, though he knew it wasn’t a deliberate or conscious thing, when Greg stayed behind for almost two hours after the others left. The team on shift were out on a call so otherwise the station was quiet. When Greg finally left, Spike headed home, barriers more or less intact.

***

When Greg joined the rest of the Team for their celebration, he asked the obvious question. “Where’s Mike?” 

“We took a vote and decided not to invite him.” Ed admitted. Guides weren’t known for socialising or drinking, Greg knew, but he hadn't anticipated the team not even inviting their newest member. 

“He’s part of this team.” Greg admonished.

“He’s not and you know he’s not.” Ed countered. “He’s like our headsets or our guns. Is he useful? Sure. But he’s not a team player.” Sam and Jules agreed. Wordy and Leah looked less certain but neither voiced any disagreement.

Greg knew grief over the loss of Lou was foremost in their minds and the whole team was strained with all the subsequent changes. That, combined with the general public perception of Guides, wasn't helping their attitude. And he hadn't even told them about the upcoming recruitment trials to replace Lou.

“Alright guys, if that’s how you want it to be. But keep in mind that if we alienate him and he decides he doesn’t want to be our Guide, we are back to dismantling the team and starting over from scratch.”

“We’ll include him.” Ed conceded. “But on our terms.”

The conversation turned to other things but Greg's thoughts kept coming back to Mike and how to better integrate their new Guide into the team.


	3. Aspersions

Their first few calls were run of the mill stuff. Spike sat in the truck or one of the SUVs and guided remotely, easily done as the calls were all in self-contained areas. There were no zones and no close calls which meant Spike's track record of no zones after the initial training period was so far unbroken.

The Sentinels were no longer having trouble with their senses outside of work either. The overall ease with which things had settled meant they were taking his presence somewhat for granted. In contrast, things weren't getting any easier for Spike, who found the calls draining with the high level of emotional distress at play.

He’d arrive to work as Team One finished their morning workout and would hang around outside or in the locker room while they were briefed on things like high risk arrest warrants or joint operations. Spike felt that it would have made more sense to include him, so he’d have an idea of the terrain, whether the Sentinels would be spread out and where the best position would be for him to base himself for the duration of the call. Anything to make him more effective in how he guided.

Ed thought differently and when Spike had tried to broach it with him had headed him off sharply. Instead, he’ gave Spike a brief overview afterwards, sometimes nothing more than “we’re serving an arrest warrant in an apartment building. Stay in the Command truck.” Spike had thought he’d at least be given a headset to listen in, but it was decided that anything needed would be relayed through whoever stayed with Spike during the call. So he was effectively guiding blindfolded.

As a result Spike was feeling more and more like a piece of equipment the team had to lug around with them. But he guessed that was the reality of being a full-time Guide. 

It was an idea heavily promoted by the Sentinel Guide Authority in their educational programs about Guides. There to serve for the good of the Sentinel.

Most Guides came online as teenagers and were sent into special training programs that would lead to military, police or rescue services. Latent Guides usually ended up in the caring professions, their offline genes still providing some empathic advantage over the average person. It was similar to latent Sentinels, who had stronger senses than most people and so tended to find themselves in more physical roles. It explained the higher numbers of latents in elite military and police teams like the SRU. 

A week after they started back on active duty recruitment trials were held for their new team member. They decided Spike should be around for the trials as the Sentinels wanted to be in top form to assess the potential recruits.

It was clear by the end of the second day that one candidate in particular had an advantage over the rest. Donna Sabine. Spike had overheard bits and pieces about her. She’d been undercover in narcotics for a few years and was looking for a change of scene.

It was immediately apparent, to Spike at least, that she had a problem with him. They’d been introduced by Leah late on the first day of trials, which caught Spike off guard as everyone seemed to have forgotten he was actually there. Donna had reached out a hand, a genuine smile on her face, until Leah mentioned he was a Guide. She'd pulled back her hand immediately, going so far as to take a step back. 

“So you’re Team One’s Guide?” She'd looked him up and down, seeming less than impressed. He felt a spike in emotions from her, all negative, before they damped down. She was gone before Spike could reply and Leah looked from him to Donna’s retreating form in confusion.

Over the next day, Spike noticed Donna avoid him where she could. She always kept a minimum distance of a few metres between them. Clearly she was aware of the average Guide’s empathic field range. Most people weren’t and assumed it was through physical contact only.

Of course, Spike’s range, being a few hundred metres on a bad day, meant that he was all too aware of her feelings towards him. He didn’t understand how he could provoke so much disgust and distrust in someone he didn’t know. It was another drain on his already strained mind. He wished there was some way to shut her out. The only good thing was that she was able to actively clamp down on her emotions when he was near her. Which actually meant he found himself gravitating towards her more often than not.

He figured out the reason early on the third day. He was hanging around waiting for the last of the recruitment trials to start when he heard Leah’s voice. He hadn’t intended on eavesdropping but he heard his name and couldn’t help stopping to listen.

“So what’s your problem with Mike?”

“I don’t have a problem with Mike.” came Donna’s short reply. 

“So it’s Guides in general than?” There was no response from Donna and Leah continued. “I’ve seen you avoid him, move away if he gets too close. And when you can’t move you have this look of concentration on your face.”

There was an audible sigh from Donna.

“My last undercover, one of the top guys was a Sentinel. He had this Guide, a woman. She’d get in a room with people, scan them, and point out the undercover cops, the rival dealers and the ones who were cooking the books or screwing them over somehow. And she didn’t need to touch you to do it. And that’s not just her, that’s all Guides. They’re all empathic, just by being there they’re invading your privacy. I got pretty good at masking my emotions undercover, projecting an easygoing tweaker persona and now I just can’t relax when I’m around one of them.”

“Mike isn’t her. He worked with the military before he joined us and with the police before he came online.” Spike was surprised that Leah came to his defence.

“Did he tell you about the empathy reading?”

“No, but it’s not a big deal for most Guides, is it? It’s restricted to physical touch or close proximity and we haven’t even shaken hands.”

“All Guides are a liability. If there was a way for Sentinels to function without them, we’d all be better off.” Donna was expressing a sentiment Spike had heard before working with military Sentinels, but never said so vehemently.

“But there’s not and Mike is here to stay. You’d better learn to live with him because out of necessity the Team will choose him over you.” Leah counselled gently

Spike, sensing the discussion had come to a close, made his way back to the locker room. The conversation explained a lot about Donna’s attitude towards him. He hadn’t realised there were Sentinels and Guides outside of the government’s jurisdiction, though he imagined, assuming Donna’s undercover stint had been successful, that particular Sentinel and Guide pair weren’t free anymore.

***

It was late evening and Greg was sitting in the briefing room trying to get his ever growing mountain of paperwork down to something more manageable. There were still reports and files on Lou’s death to sign off on, not to mention the reports he was sending to Dr. Toth on Mike’s placement. And now he had the results of the recruitment trials. They’d narrowed it down and Donna Sabine was clearly in the lead. His main concern was that she had spent too much time undercover and, somewhat like Sam when he’d first arrived, had too much of a black and white view of the world. 

Then there was her problem with Guides. Leah had casually mentioned it to him earlier that day and he and Ed had taken Donna aside to talk about it. He had noticed her reluctance to be in close contact with Mike and mentioned his observation. She readily gave her explanation and discussed her past experiences openly. While Ed had assured her that the way Mike worked contact time would be minimal, Greg approached it from the other side. That Guides weren’t a single entity and she, and the team as a whole, needed to get to know Mike better. His suggestion didn't go down well with either of them. 

He glanced over the scores again. She was by far the best candidate of the top three. But bringing her in was only going to bolster the negative sentiment that already existed towards Mike. She’d be a good fit for the team, if them being Sentinels and needing a Guide wasn’t a consideration. The thoughts that had floated in and out of his head over the past few weeks returned to him. How he wished Lou hadn’t stepped on that mine. How he wished they hadn’t come online as Sentinels. How he wished they didn’t need a Guide. And how if wishes were horses, he’d own a riding school.

Decision made, he headed home. In the morning he’d tell the team and they’d welcome their new team member. 

***

Spike was unsurprised that Donna was chosen for the team. She’d been the best of all the candidates by far. He’d only been surprised it had taken so long for Greg to make a decision. He’d have preferred either of the two men who’d been in the running. Neither of them seemed to have strong feelings about Guides either way and their presence wouldn’t have shifted the balance of the team at all. Donna’s presence on the other hand…

Her first week with the team was rocky for all concerned with Lou still at the forefront of their minds. And it heralded a shift in their attitude to him. While they’d been somewhat tolerant of him hanging around with them during down time, he began to be more actively unwanted. They started finding him random tasks to do to take him away from the team. They’d sent him to do an inventory in one of the storerooms and sent him chasing down old files in the file room. They were protecting their new team member from him.

He snapped by the fourth day. “I am not a file clerk.” he bit out when Ed asked him to go and find some obscure sounding file in the archives. They'd already been out at a call, returning mid-morning.

“Why, do you have something better to do?” Ed replied, teetering on the edge of anger.

“Yeah, my job, which is stabilising your senses, and Sam’s and his.” He said, pointed to Greg who was sitting on the far side of the room. “Which would be the reason you’re not wincing from the sound of my voice right now or nauseous from the smell of Wordy’s aftershave.”

Ed stood and loomed over Mike who stared back defiantly. He was sick of all this crap. Sick of them not realising that stabilising their senses was active work that took effort, not something he did passively while he got on with his day.

“Mike’s right Ed. He’s not a file clerk. If you need something, ask Winny.” Greg’s voice answered diplomatically.

Spike knew from the emotions spread around the room, that no one, Greg included, was too pleased with him right that second. But he was too tired to care. His head hurt, his body ached and he just wanted to sit there and let his barriers build up.

Ed stormed from the room, returned a minute later and sat back down with a glare at Spike. Spike shut his eyes to close down the visual stimulus, and focused on blocking out the emotions thrown at him.

He felt Donna come in to the room, knew she was hesitating as the only free seat was next to him. “Donna, sit down and grab some paper. I want everyone's reports up to date by lunchtime.” Greg’s tone brooked no disagreement.

She moved towards Spike and sat down. He tensed in anticipation of the new onslaught of feelings from the forced close proximity but almost immediately felt a quashing of her emotions leaving the empathic equivalent of a bland taste in his mouth. He’d never come across someone who could do that without an empathic blocker like Dr. Toth wore. He spoke without thinking or opening his eyes.

“That’s really cool how you can shut your emotions down like that. Did someone teach you?” He didn't open his eyes but could feel he'd inadvertently drawn the attention of the room.

“I got some training before I went undercover in narcotics.” Donna replied, sounding surprised at his question.

Spike opened his eyes to look at her. “Maybe you could teach the rest of the team. It might come in useful if they ever encounter an empathic suspect.” Not to mention it would give Spike the occasional break from all their emotional debris.

“Sure, if Ed and the Sarge think it would be useful.” Donna said, looking to both men. From their emotions, Spike could tell they were open to the idea and Greg said they’d look into it.

Donna got to work beside him and gradually her tight hold on her emotions eased. But they weren’t the purely negative emotions he’d got from her before, there was now an element of curiosity replacing the fear.

***

Spike returned home that night feeling he’d made some tiny progress towards not being the complete outcast of the team. He just wished he knew why his headaches were getting more and more persistent. Only the rescue injection got rid of them completely now and still the headache always came back.

It wasn’t like how he’d imagined being a Guide would be. It was supposed to get easier the more you practised it, like any skill, but for Spike it just seemed to be getting harder day by day. He longed for just an hour of peace inside his own head.


	4. Mistakes

Another day, another call. They were called to a hostage situation at a gas station and Spike struggled with the emotions of the hostages and the distraught hostage taker herself. He knew this was something more than a robbery gone wrong.

He’d been struggling for days to manage his shields and suddenly they were outside the cult’s compound, his Sentinels were spread out and there were people everywhere; scared, suspicious people whose fear was only growing.

With Ed taken hostage the Team’s own emotions were high. Spike realised he was heading for trouble as his distance from the Sentinels grew and stabilising them became harder and harder. If he didn’t get this under control, and soon, they were at risk of a zone.

Leah was with him in the command truck. He turned to her.

“Leah?”

“Yeah, Mike?”

Leah was distracted, mind fully on the job.

“I… I’m going to need physical contact with one of the Sentinels.”

After a pause Leah gave him her full attention. “What’s the problem Mike?”

“They’re too far apart and there are too many people in range. I won’t be able to keep them stable without physical contact.”

“Right now?” Leah asked and Spike could feel a level of impatience and disbelief that the Guide was causing a ruckus _now_ but none it was expressed in Leah’s face or voice.

“Sooner would be better.” He didn’t plead with her but he let some of his desperation seep into his voice.

“Okay.” She spoke through her headset. “Boss, Mike has a problem. Says he needs physical contact with one of you to continue stabilising your senses in the field. Something about the distance and the people.”

Spike was close enough to hear the response. “He needs this _now_?” The exasperation in Greg’s voice was clear.

“Said sooner was better.” Leah replied.

“Alright Leah, put a vest on him and escort him to me. We need you out here too.”

Leah handed him a vest and he wasted no time donning it, before following her out of the truck and towards the compound. “Keep your head down and follow my lead.” Leah warned.

They reached Greg within minutes. They were outside the fence and Wordy and Sam were working to cut their way through.

“You picked a bad time to do this Mike. Do what you need to, but I need my hands free and when we move you’ll need to keep up.”

Spike had worked with combat Sentinels in the field before, some of whom preferred physical contact for certain things like sniper shooting. He moved to stand behind Greg and reached a hand up, resting it on his left shoulder. There was a rationale behind it, being Greg’s non-dominant hand and not obstructing most physical movement. Skin to skin contact would have been better but Spike suspected Greg wouldn’t have appreciated him pawing at his face or neck which were the only accessible areas of skin.

The contact had an almost immediate stabilising effect on Spike’s abilities as he opened a superficial link with Greg. He relaxed a little as he was also buffered against the worsening terror of the people within the compound. He wanted to speak up but Dr. Toth had warned him to keep his empathy range under wraps at all costs even going so far as to threaten Spike with an extended stay in the Guide Centre's lab which Spike was at pains to avoid.

Fence cut, they made their way inside, Wordy and Leah heading to the main gate and the rest heading to free Ed. Spike followed closely behind Greg, making physical contact only when it was safe to do so.

He followed Greg into the building Ed was being held in. Ed caught sight of them. “It’s all clear… What the hell is he doing here?”

“We ran into a bit of a snag. He needed physical contact to maintain stability.” Greg explained as he freed Ed’s hands.

They made their way to the barn then, where all the frightened people were concentrated together. As soon as they stopped moving, Spike put a hand back on Greg’s shoulder and held on as best he could. The people inside were screaming vocally but empathically it was worse.

The relief when they were finally freed was overwhelming and, if Spike could have, he’d have sat down then and there. Instead, once he was sure the worst was over, he detached from Greg and let an officer escort him back to the truck.

The ride back to headquarters was quiet. He was sitting in the back of an SUV with Sam driving and Greg in the passenger seat. The sheer relief of being in contact with the two Sentinels and getting a chance to bolster his shields was somewhat dampened when, on arriving back, he was told he’d need to sit in on the debrief.

Greg read through the transcript and when they came to Leah passing on Spike’s request for contact, all eyes in the room turned to him and the looks weren’t all friendly. No one commented but at the end Greg asked him to stay behind with him and Ed. It was Ed who spoke.

“I’m putting a complaint through to Dr. Toth. We can’t have you deciding midway through a call that you need to change the game plan like that. You’ve taken part in longer calls with us. Hell, you’ve done three and four day missions with covert ops teams. There is no way you needed to pull a stunt like that mid-call. What was it, you felt there just hadn’t been enough attention on your importance as our Guide?”

Ed’s tone was scathing, his emotions like nails along a chalkboard but Spike heard very little beyond the threat to complain to Dr. Toth.

“Please don’t tell Dr. Toth. It won’t happen again, I promise.” Spike was making a promise he couldn’t be sure he'd keep, but he knew any perceived issue or weakness would result in Toth hauling him into the lab for evaluation. He wanted to avoid that at all costs.

“Sorry Mike, but if there are issues or limitations on what you can do in the field, we need to be aware of them.” Greg’s tone was more conciliatory than Ed’s.

Spike decided telling them a half-truth, if it prevented them getting Toth involved, was worth it.

“I need more contact time with you outside of calls.”

“Why?” Greg asked as he and Ed exchanged a confused look.

“Because this isn’t like the covert ops missions I guided for. Those were three or four days in a row max, near constant contact with Sentinels with physical contact for the more sense heavy aspects of the missions. And for the most part they were in remote locations so not a lot of interference from other people in range.”

Spike paused to take a breath before continuing, being cautious with his wording.

“Your calls might be a lot shorter but I don’t spend nearly as much downtime with you and there’s always cross interference from other people. I didn’t warn you about this because I didn’t know, I haven't worked under these conditions before. I just need to make a few adjustments to sort it out, that’s all. I…” he hesitated in saying the last thing on his mind, knowing how they might react and knowing it went completely against Toth’s conditions for his posting there.

“I might need physical contact on calls like this. Where there’s lots of people in range and you guys are spread out like that. It interferes with the connection.” He didn’t explain that that was because he was being bombarded with their emotions like they were sparks from a fire aimed directly at his head. But he was only telling half the truth, after all.

***

Greg had mentally agreed with Ed’s decision to involve Dr. Toth in their new Guide problem. Until he saw Mike’s response. He looked suddenly very young and scared, which was not something Greg expected from their thus far quiet, stoic Guide.

Focusing in on Mike, he could sense a raised heart rate, increased skin temperature and increased sweating. All signs of a person under stress.

His explanation that followed seemed straightforward and comprehensive. It answered a few questions Greg had been wondering like whether the number of people in Mike’s range affected it, which it seemed it did.

“Okay Mike, it looks like we need to make a few adjustments. I propose you join us for briefings and debriefs pre- and post-calls.”

“You’d better start joining us for morning workouts too.” Ed added. “Especially if you’re going to be needed in the field sometimes. Personally, I think we should look at adjustments that avoid that eventuality. It would be a liability as we’d have to watch your back as well as our own.”

Mike looked relieved at their words and the criticism Ed was levelling at him didn’t even seem to register. Greg wondered why but Mike’s next words made it clear

“And Dr. Toth?”

“We won’t involve him at this stage. We’ll see how the changes pan out.” Greg said. It was as much for their benefit as for Mike’s; hiccups in Mike’s placement this early on could spell the end of this trial. The tension in Mike’s body eased at his words.

“We’ll see you here tomorrow for pre-shift workout. Five am. Don’t be late.” Ed cautioned. Mike mumbled something that sounded like an agreement before hurrying out the door.

He and Ed stayed back a few more minutes. “I feel like we’re missing something.” Ed said.

“I know what you mean. His reactions were a little off.”

“Why didn’t we detect it?” Greg, confused by the question, turned to look at Ed. “That Mike was struggling at the Farm. I didn’t feel a waver in my control but I also didn’t detect anything amiss with him.”

“Neither did I.” Greg admitted, “But he fades into sensory background pretty quickly. I barely know he’s there most of the time.”

“Same here. Is that normal?” Ed asked. “I really don’t know.” Greg replied.


	5. Gaining Ground

Two cups of coffee had Spike almost awake as he stood in the locker room at 5am.

“Here, catch.” Ed threw a bundle of clothes at him. “Change into those, you can’t work out in that.” That being Spike’s normal work wear. He hadn’t thought to bring something else.

He changed quickly and found himself standing uncertainly at the entrance to the gym.

“Mike, treadmill, now.”

Spike was relieved to see Ed’s usual economy of words hadn’t changed. He started with a slow jog to warm up then increased to a faster pace. He quickly found he was more out of condition than he’d realised as he had to slow his pace after only ten minutes. The running was only exacerbating the ever present pounding in his head and ten minutes later, as the nausea began to take hold, he stopped the treadmill and stepped off.

“Who told you to stop Scarlatti?” Ed demanded. Spike’s stomach lurched as he tried to adjust to being back on solid ground.

“Scarlatti, I asked you a question.”

“Sorry, I need a minute.” Spike managed to say, before walking quickly to the bathroom.

He threw up what little was in his stomach. Mostly coffee he guessed. And a banana. He probably wouldn’t be eating one of those for a while.

He walked out of the cubicle and turned on the tap at the sink, leaning over to rinse out his mouth. Looking up he caught sight of Sam in the mirror, watching him.

“You okay?” There was the merest hint of concern behind Sam’s words and a wrinkling of his nose that suggested he was having trouble dialling down his sense of smell.

“I’m fine. It’s just a Guide thing.” He replied. “Focus on another sense, like your hearing and your sense of smell will dial itself down.” The advice came automatically to his lips.

“I’d heard Guides couldn’t hold their liquor. I hadn’t heard they couldn’t hold their exercise.”

The delivery was deadpan and Spike didn’t know if that was meant to be a joke for his amusement or at his expense but he decided it made no difference.

“It’s just a headache.” He said, by way of explanation.

“Like a migraine?” Sam asked and his concern seemed more genuine. “Something like that.” Spike replied. It had improved with proximity to the Sentinels but hadn’t disappeared completely.

Once Spike felt his stomach had settled, he headed back to the gym, Sam following him out. When the reached the others, Sam spoke up, surprising Spike. “Mike threw up. He has a migraine. It’s a Guide thing apparently.”

Ed slowed and stopped the treadmill he was running on and gave Spike a once-over. He could feel the keen Sentinel eyes and ears assessing him. Evidently he wasn’t pleased with what he found.

“Grab some water, grab a seat and sit the rest of this out. There’s aspirin in the first aid kit if you need it.” Ed turned back to his running and Spike was dismissed. Relieved, he grabbed a bottle of water, sat down on a bench and leaned back to rest his head against the cool wall.

***

He joined them again the following morning, this time bringing his own gym clothes. He managed nearly 30 minutes before he had to retreat to the bathroom. He’d learnt his lesson from the last time and hadn’t eaten breakfast so threw up mostly bile.

This time when he stumbled out of the stall and to the sink, Wordy was leaning against the wall, bottle of water in hand. After Spike rinsed his mouth out he handed the bottle to him.

“Thanks.” Spike said, opening it and sipping at the cool liquid.

“So what is that, like an exercise induced migraine?” Wordy asked.

“Um, sort of, it’s a…”

“Guide thing, yeah you said. What does that mean exactly?” It was said with curiosity.

“I guess it means I’m still adjusting to the new work environment.”

“And it’ll get better?”

“It should.” Not that he’d any evidence to back that up so far. Toth kept reducing his rescue injections and Spike’s headache just got more persistent.

They walked back out to the gym. Ed, catching sight of Spike and getting a nod from Wordy called out. “Maybe we should set you up in the girl’s locker room Mike. No offence ladies.” He added as an afterthought as he found himself at the receiving end of a glare from all three.

Spike didn’t bother responding, just took a seat on the bench and let the jibes and conversation flow over him.

***

To Spike’s immense relief, his headaches were better with more consistent Sentinel contact and his barriers remained mostly intact overnight.

His third day he managed a run on the treadmill without throwing up, though Ed had him sit out the rest of the workout. The fourth day, he got to add in some weight training, surprised to have both Wordy and Sam giving him advice on posture and lift.

It was with a sense of accomplishment that he reached the end of the week. Things were beginning to even out and it looked like this placement might actually work. They had two weekend shifts to work followed by four vacation days the next week. All he had to do for a perfect vacation was get through his meeting with Dr. Toth.

***

“I’m glad things are settling down with your new Guide.” The comment from Rolie seemed to come out of nowhere as Greg got changed in the locker room.

“Yeah, it’s been a rough few weeks for all of us.”

“Right and given the turn in the weather, it was hard to see how he was going to keep it up.”

Greg frowned as Rolie’s sentence made no sense to him. “How who was going to keep what up?”

“Your Guide, Mike, sitting outside after shifts.” When Greg merely levelled a confused look in his direction, Rolie clarified. “When you were on days and we were on night’s the other week he was there almost every evening, sitting out by the side of the building. Hasn’t been there once this week, at least not that Team two have noticed.”

“Right, thanks for telling me Rolie. Yeah, I think we’ve got more of a handle on the problem.”

Greg pondered it on the way home. Clearly Mike had had some awareness that he wasn’t getting enough contact with them, but why had he waited until things went wrong at the farm to come clean? He knew the team hadn’t been the most welcoming and wondered if that had contributed to how Mike was handling problems, by hiding them and dealing with them himself as best he could.

Then there was the other question. Why had none of the Sentinel’s noticed his continued presence?

He had to think about it during their vacation days and figure out how best to go about making Mike a part of their team.

***

Even though Spike felt sure Sergeant Parker had kept his word about the incident at the Farm, Toth knew all about it at their appointment.

“I’m disappointed Mike. I really thought we were making progress. Do you want to tell me what you think happened?” Dr. Toth’s voice was deceptively calm, but Spike had seen him like this before and knew the molten anger he hid beneath, even if he did wear an empathic blocker to stop Spike from sensing his emotions.

“I didn’t account for the additional drain from emotionally distressed people in my Guide range.” Spike answered smoothly. “I’ve made some adjustments to my schedule so I spend more time with the Sentinels outside of calls. It shouldn’t happen again.”

He tried to keep the tremor from his hands and voice as he waited for Toth’s reaction. “You told them about your empathic range?” Toth made it sound like a casual question but Spike knew how much was riding on his answer. “No, of course not. I just told them additional people in range cause interference with my ability to stabilise their senses.”

Toth seemed surprised at his response. “And they accepted that explanation?”

“Yes, and they were happy to make accommodations to prevent it happening again. They really want this to work.” Well, they wanted the convenience of a Guide they didn’t have to interact with much if it let them keep their precious team together. But their team was like family and it was hard for Spike to resent them for wanting to hold on to it on the wake of Lewis Young’s death.

“Alright, we will see how these changes work out. I want daily reports from you for the next few weeks.”

“Of course Dr. Toth.” Spike could barely conceal his relief. A few extra reports was nothing in the grand scheme of things.

As he got up to leave, Dr. Toth made one last comment.

“Oh Mike. Your team is on leave next week. I’d like you to spend a few days in the lab while we run some tests.” Spike’s heart went to ice. The timing of the order was cold and calculating and he could hear the tight anger Dr. Toth was restraining.

Spike, hand on the door handle, almost turned back to plead with the doctor but knew it would be no use. If he didn’t come willingly they’d drag him there in cuffs.

“Of course Dr. Toth.” was the only possible answer so he gave it. He stepped out the door quickly before more could be said, shutting it behind him. He made it outside and a few feet down the street before his dread overcame him and he sat down on some steps, shaking and holding his head. He would get through this, he told himself, over and over. He’d gotten through worse.


	6. Faraway, So Close

They were supposed to be doing a drill for a high risk arrest warrant. Then Sergeant Parker went missing in an alleyway. They went to check it out and, as instructed, Spike stayed in the SUV though they gave him a headset in case he sensed Greg in range.

When they couldn’t find the Boss’ cell phone, Spike, who’d bitten his tongue a dozen times when tempted to help out, couldn’t keep quiet. “I can try and track it.”

“You can do that Mike?” Spike heard the scepticism in Ed’s voice.

“Sure, if it’s on.” Spike had done a lot of technical courses in his last year on the force which, combined with his long-standing interest in computers and his rarely admitted to teenage adventures in hacking, meant he could track a cell phone in his sleep. “Do it.” Ed said.

A few minutes later they’d tracked the phone down to homeless lady Glynnis. Having retrieved the phone, Ed passed it to Spike. “See what you can get from it.”

It led them to Haley and that led them to Kevin. Once they realised Spike knew how to search the police database, they let him loose and he managed to make the connection to Kevin’s uncle Joe, aka their Snake Man, who led them to the meth house. When they were still a minute out, Spike was able to sense Greg. “He’s there, we’re getting closer.”

“So he’s alive?” Ed asked. 

“Yes, he’s hurt but not badly.” He could feel the relief from the Team on learning their boss was alive, a relief he himself felt. Greg was the reason he was on this assignment, Greg was the buffer between him and the rest of the team. Spike needed him.

He was forced to stay in the SUV again and listen to it play out. At least he got the reassurance of knowing Greg probably knew they were there, as he’d feel the effect of Spike’s presence on his senses even if his injury prevented him from actually sensing the team. He got out of the car when they finally brought Greg out but hung back as Jules took Greg to task for his actions. And then watched as Greg comforted a distraught Haley and later as the team gathered around their team mate. It was hard watching their solidarity and, despite being only a few feet from them, feeling they were miles apart.

Later at the station as he was getting ready to head home Greg stopped him in the locker room. “I hear I have you to thank for helping locate me today. Apparently you have some pretty handy tech skills. Any particular reason you or Toth never mentioned them?”

Spike stuck with the simplest explanation. “Toth didn’t want to take any emphasis away from my function as a Guide.”

“So what made today different?” Greg asked.

“I wouldn’t be much of a Guide if I lost one of my Sentinels.” Spike answered with a shrug.

“You did good Mike.” Greg said suddenly, placing a hand on Spike’s shoulder. The connection between them flared briefly to life before Spike clamped down hard on it, slowly the flow of information to a trickle. It wouldn’t do for Greg to get a true read of everything going on with him.

“Yeah, he did.” Ed said, as he walked in to join them. “We’re going out for a drink. Are you two coming?” he asked.

Spike wanted more than anything to join them, but Toth’s most recent stipulation stated no socialising with the team. He was concerned Spike would get emotionally attached. “No, sorry, I can’t. Maybe another time.”

Ed and Greg shared a look and Spike felt sure his rejection of Ed’s offer of friendship wouldn’t go down well. But he couldn’t risk pissing off Toth any more than he already had. “Sure, another time.” Ed said. Spike left quickly after that, feeling again the chasm that separated him from his Sentinels and their team.

***

“I was sure he’d say yes.” Ed said once Spike had gone.

“It felt like wanted to.” Greg agreed. 

“So what’s holding him back?”


	7. Vacation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This chapter is dark and angsty. If you have a needle phobia or fear of medical procedures, please tread with care. It's not gratuitous, it serves the plot but it is a little graphic in parts so please heed this warning.

Their last shift was on Sunday and then Team One had four vacation days. Three of those Spike had been told he’d be expected to spend at the lab in the Guide Centre.

He reluctantly packed a small bag and turned up at their door promptly at 9am. He hadn’t slept the night before and his stomach churned as he stood outside the familiar building.

“Guide Scarlatti. Welcome back.” Mr. Tobin, the lab director, greeted him. “Dr. Toth informed of us of your visit. We’re glad to have you in our care for a few days. We got so much data on your last visit.”

Spike followed Mr. Tobin as he led Spike to his room, handing over his meagre bag of belongings as requested. “Change into a gown and settle in. Melinda will be along in a while to get you set up.”

Of all the things Spike hated about the lab, the empathy blockers worn by all the staff was one of the worst. Getting no emotional feedback from people when they were poking and prodding you made it all the more unnerving.

He changed into the thin gown and scrub-like pants, resigning himself to three days of being cold, scared and miserable. 

True to Tobin’s word, Melinda arrived promptly and attached the monitoring equipment to Spike. There was a heart monitor, an EEG, and something attached to the base of his skull that monitored his empathic fields. 

He was then brought to the physiology lab where they took blood and hair samples and gave him a container to get a urine sample. “As soon as you can please.” The technician said sternly as he handed him the specimen pot. “We’d prefer not to have to catheterise you.” Spike couldn’t tell if the technician was joking or not.

After they got their samples, they had Spike run on a treadmill for a while, monitoring his vitals. Predictably his headache flared but the test ended after fifteen minutes and he managed to avoid throwing up. 

After lunch, which was devoid of any actual food or water, Dr. Toth arrived. Two orderlies accompanied him alongside another doctor so Spike had a fair idea that whatever they wanted wasn’t something he was keen to give.

“Now Guide Scarlatti, we’re redoing all your tests to get an idea of what, if anything, has changed since your placement with Team One. We’ll need to repeat a lumbar puncture.”

Spike went pale at the words, though he’d been expecting them. Toth seemed to favour the lumbar puncture above all other tests, something to do with looking at variations in protein expression in the brain fluid. They never gave pain relief when they tested him, regardless of what they were doing, and this test stood out as the most painful. They monitored his empathic fields during all tests and seeing the effects of pain and stress on these was, in Toth’s words, “valuable information.” Personally, Spike felt it had more to do with Toth being somewhat of a sadist.

But it was four against one so this wasn’t a battle Spike was going to win. He obediently shed his gown and moved to lie on his left side on the metal table, drawing his knees up to his chest. Even so, they moved to restrain him, securing his wrists and ankles with padded cuffs attached to the left hand corners of the table and securing straps across his body at his shoulders, elbows, knees and ankles. It left them unobstructed access to his lower back while immobilising Spike. 

Spike felt he’d have handled it better without the restraints but that was how they always performed invasive tests and nothing Spike could say would change that. And given he'd tried to resist once or twice they were unlikely to believe he'd cooperate without them.

Dr. Toth moved around to stand in front of Spike. “It’s good you’re cooperating Mike. It makes it easier for all of us, you especially. I’ll leave you to it.” He moved out of sight and Spike heard his footsteps cross back around the bed followed by the opening and closing of the lab door. 

The other doctor was out of Spike’s range of vision. He could heard the sounds of packets being opened and gloves being donned. “Guide Scarlatti, I need you to keep very still and take deep breaths. The attendants will help hold you down if we run into difficulty.” And that wasn't reassuring at all.

The doctor moved into place behind him and he felt the cold of the disinfectant being spread across his skin. The needle punctured the skin slowly then continued to push its way inside. Spike bit his lip to muffle a cry as pain flared sharply from the point of penetration on his back. He tried to hold still couldn't help shifting away as the pain intensified. Harsh hands were quick to hold him down.

“Stay still Guide.” The doctor’s voice ground out, irritated. 

“Are you in?” One of the orderlies asked, as Spike groaned and shifted under their grip. “Bend his upper body forward more.” The doctor instructed impatiently. Spike felt the needle manoeuvre around, seeking its way through, as the orderly near his head pushed his shoulders down, bending his spine further. His wrists pulled in their restraints and he cried out as the needle hit a nerve and a sharp pain flared down his left leg.

The needle withdrew. Spike gave a sigh of relief and the orderlies relaxed their grips.

“Don’t let him go, get him back into position while I try again.” The doctor snapped. Knowing it had been too easy for it to be over already, Spike found himself pushed into position once more, his knees forced up towards his chest and his shoulders pressed downward.

The needle penetrated a second time and the pain flared again. He cried out, in words this time. “Stop, please stop.”

“Quiet Guide and hold still.” Came the impatient response from the doctor. “You’re only making things harder on yourself.” She pushed the needle in further. Finally, Spike felt something give and the doctor and the orderlies all relaxed a fraction. “It’s in. Hold him still while I collect the samples.”

It seemed an age to be held in that position, the sharp pain from the needle in his back a constant presence. Spike felt like he couldn’t breath, contorted and compressed between the restraints and the orderlies. 

“There. Done. That wasn’t so bad was it?” The Doctor seemed to be speaking more to herself than to Spike or his experience. He gasped in relief as the needle was withdrawn and a bandage secured over the spot.

“He should stay prone for at least 30 minutes.” She instructed and then Spike heard her footsteps leave the room.

The orderlies began to release the straps across Spike’s body.

“I’m not staying in here for 30 minutes watching to make sure he stays put. It’s freezing.” One complained as he freed Spike's ankles. “She didn’t say we had to stay, just to make sure he didn’t get up.” The other said. “I say we just leave him as he is. He won’t be going anywhere.”

“If you say so.” The other replied.

Spike was only just following their conversation, still recovering from the procedure and the pain. It was only as they closed the door on their way out that he realised the problem. They’d released his ankles from the cuffs and removed the straps along his lower body, but his wrists were still tied to the top corner of the table and the straps across his shoulders and chest still in place. He tugged on his arms but they were secured tightly. The best he could do was stretch his lower body out a little and try to lie on his stomach, his hands trapped above his head. It eased the cramping of his strained muscles and he let out a sigh of relief that was quickly overshadowed by the realisation, as the adrenaline wore off, that the room was cold and he was shirtless.

He tried calling out. “Hello, is anyone there? Can anyone hear me?” There was only silence in response.

Realising there was nothing he could do about his predicament, he closed his eyes and tried to will himself to sleep. Despite the residual pain, despite the cold, he drifted off. 

***

Greg had been taking advantage of their downtime to do a little household DIY. He’d been up early and had fixed the doors on the cupboards, replaced an electrical socket that had cracked, replaced the lock on the bathroom door and oiled some squeaky door hinges. He had an early lunch around noon then, deciding he’d earned a rest having not slept well the night before, lay down on his bed for a nap.

He wasn’t sure how long he’d been lying there, but as he drifted between sleep and wakefulness, he was suddenly jolted awake by a cry of fear and pain. “Spike?” he said aloud as he sat up, then looked around in confusion.

Spike was definitely the name that had come into his mind, but he knew the voice he’d heard was Mike, their Guide. He closed his eyes and focused his senses, trying to see if Mike was somewhere in the vicinity but there was nothing. Finally deciding he’d have to rely on traditional methods, he grabbed his cell phone and dialled Mike’s number. It rang out and he left a short message.

Puzzled by what had just happened, he then called Ed. Ed had taken Sophie and Clark to the cabin for a few days so Greg knew he mightn’t get any answer. It was Sophie who answered the call. “Ed’s out swimming in the lake with Clark. I can hear them laughing from here. Do you want me to get him?” Sophie asked.

“No, that’s alright Sophie, thanks. It’s nothing important. Sorry I bothered you.” Greg put down the phone. Then, feeling increasingly silly, called Sam.

Sam answered, sounding distracted. Greg could hear a woman’s voice in the background. ‘Not Jules.’ His mind told him, feeling an element of relief at the knowledge.

Once he’d gotten Sam on the other end of the phone, Greg wasn’t sure what to ask him. “Have you heard anything from Mike? Or sensed anything?” He kept his questions vague and was unsurprised that Sam sounded confused.

“No, but I wasn’t expecting to hear from him. And no I haven’t sensed anything. Why?”

“It’s nothing, I’m sure. I was napping, thought I caught something from Spike, maybe because of the physical link we had last week.”

“Have you tried calling him?” 

“Yeah, but I’ll try again. I’m sure it’s nothing more than my imagination.”

“Okay, well let me know if you need anything from me or if you can't get hold of him.”

“Will do, thanks Sam.”

He tried Mike’s number again, then sent a text asking Mike to check in with him.

***

Spike woke cold and uncomfortable, lying twisted at an angle. The opening of the door had woken him.

“Guide Scarlatti. I hope you had a nice nap.”

It was another scientist. Gavins, Spike thought his name was.

“We have a few more tests to get through this afternoon. Firstly, Dr. Toth has requested a skin biopsy, then my physiology colleagues will do some nerve and muscle conduction tests. We’ve grouped all the empathic exposure tests together so they’ll be tomorrow, then the neuroscans will be on your last day.”

The man’s voice was breezy and unconcerned. He barely even seemed to see Spike as he lay there, shivering from the cold. “If you could just move back on to your side. I need to take a skin sample from your hip.”

This wasn't a test Spike had had before. He moved as best he could so he was lying on his side. He was unsurprised when Gavins re-secured the straps across his waist and legs. Then, with no warning to Spike, he pulled Spike’s pants down, exposing his hip but also his buttocks and groin.

Cold disinfectant was once again wiped across Spike’s skin. Out of the corner of his eye he caught sight of a scalpel a second before it cut into his skin. Spike managed to muffle his cry by pushing his face into the table beneath him, pulling at the restraints around his wrists in a fruitless attempt to escape.

“There, all done.” Gavins announced after a moment, before tightly securing a bandage over the wound. He moved to the lab bench and Spike saw him place the sample in a container and label it.

Spike’s pants were still down at mid-thigh and the room wasn’t getting any warmer or friendlier. “Dr. Gavins?” he ventured. “Yes, Guide Scarlatti?” 

“Do you mind covering me up? It’s kind of cold in here.”

“You know what we say to Guides when they come here, Scarlatti. You leave your dignity and comfort at the door.” With a bland smile in Spike’s direction he walked past him. Spike heard the lab door open and close, and he was alone.

It was half an hour before the door opened again.

“Christ Almighty.” Said an accented voice and hands were tugging Spike’s pants back into place, freeing his wrists and undoing the straps across his body.

“Guide Scarlatti I presume?” The voice asked, and Spike was pulled to a sitting position and found a young red-haired man in an orderlies uniform standing in front of him.

“You’re half frozen.” The accusation was thrown at him before his gown was retrieved and the stranger helped get it back over Spike’s head.

“Better?” he asked and Spike nodded in response. “Better. Thanks.”

“I’m afraid I’ve to escort you to the neurophysiology lab where you’re to spend the rest of the afternoon. I should warn you they’re not planning on feeding you or giving you anything to drink for the duration of your stay. It’s the newest adjustment to the study regimen. They’ll put you on an IV drip overnight to prevent dehydration.”

Spike didn't bother reacting to that bit of news. What difference was a prolonged fast going to make in the grand scheme of things? He got to his feet and followed his would-be temporary rescuer as they left the lab that had been Spike’s torture chamber for the afternoon.

***

Spike was sat upright for the next series of tests, though restrained once more, this time strapped by his arms and legs to the chair he’d been placed in. The orderly who’d escorted him had been kind enough to ensure Spike got to visit a restroom on the way. This room was slightly warmer than the last, due to the nature of the equipment which he could hear buzzing in the background. 

It almost hadn’t been worth getting dressed as he was completely naked now while electrodes were attached to his various muscle groups. He was just glad they were using electrode stickers rather than the needles they’d used on him previously.

The two technicians performing the test spoke amongst themselves, ignoring Spike for the most part except to tell him if he needed to tense or relax a muscle group. The exact reason for these tests eluded him, though he knew it had something to do with the higher rate of neurological disorders in active Guides compared to the general population. After the muscle groups, they moved on to nerve conduction. Spike hated this test as each mild electrical shock was more uncomfortable than the last. The technician found it hard to accurately pinpoint one of the nerves in his arm and Spike bit his lip as the area was shocked repeatedly while she located it.

“Guides are always the hardest patients.” She complained to her colleague. “I never had the kind of trouble in the neurophysiology lab at the hospital that I have here.”

Spike, head and back aching from the lumbar puncture and hip throbbing from the skin biopsy had had more than enough of his fair share of pain that day. So when she reached the probe to repeat the test in his other arm, he pulled back instinctively.

“Now it’s trying to get away. Fantastic.” She rolled her eyes before looking directly into Spike’s eyes. “Do you know what we do to Guides who don’t do what they’re told.” There was a smile on her face that Spike knew meant nothing good was coming his way. She redirected the probe in her hand and, to Spike’s horror, placed it on his groin near the base of his penis. With the other hand she dialled up the strength. With his arms and legs tied down he had no way to protect himself. “No, please no. I won’t move again I promise.” He stuttered out in panic.

“No, you won’t.” She said sweetly and pressed the button.

Spike screamed as the electrical impulse flowed through him, a fire of pain across his nerves. His scream died off to a whimper as she released the button and pulled the probe away. She returned her attention to his arm and Spike, unresisting and sobbing mutedly, closed his eyes.

***

It happened again during dinner. A cry of pain. He was certain of it and even more certain it came from Mike. He tried calling Mike’s cell phone again, cursing when it went to voicemail a third time.

He closed his eyes and searched but couldn’t feel anything of Mike or anything at all through the link. He thought about what to do and tried Mike's cell a fourth time to no avail. He’d just made up his mind to call Winnie and get Mike’s home address and maybe a trace on his cell phone, when his phone rang, Mike’s number appearing on the screen.

***

Dr. Toth arrived just as Spike’s testing finished up. He hadn’t even had a chance to dress or wipe the tear stains from cheeks when Toth was brandishing Spike’s phone and waving it in front of his face. 

“Sergeant Parker has rang you four times, left two voicemails and sent a text. The timing coincides with the more invasive of your tests. I suspect there’s a little residual linkage from your physical contact during your call last week.”

He placed the phone in Spike’s hand. “Please call him and reassure him of your continued health.”

Spike dialled and the phone picked up almost immediately.

“Hi Sergeant Parker, it’s Mike. Sorry I missed your call. Is everything okay?” Spike struggled to keep his voice from wavering.

“Everything is fine Mike. Actually I.. I was ringing to check in with you. I thought maybe I felt something through the link and wanted to be sure everything was okay.”

“Everything is fine Sergeant Parker. Thanks for checking in though.”

“You’re at home?” The Sergeant asked.

Spike looked up at Toth who was listening in closely. He nodded. 

“Yeah, I’m home, just chilling.” Spike forced his voice to sound casual and relaxed. A world away from what he felt right at that moment.

“That’s good to hear. We’ve all had a hard few weeks of adjustment. Well, goodnight Mike, enjoy the rest of your vacation.” The phone clicked off and Spike handed it back to Toth.

“Nicely done Mr. Scarlatti. No more physical contact with the Sentinels. Are we understood?” The threat in Toth’s voice was clear and Spike nodded solemnly in acknowledgement.

“You’re done for the day Mike. I’ll have you escorted back to your room.”

His room was cold and there was no blanket on the thin mattress of his bed. Every part of him hurt, from his head to his toes. He curled up as best he could without disrupting the IV line going in to his arm and tried desperately to sleep to escape the nightmare he was stuck in. A shivering, miserable, tortured Guide; barely even human.


	8. Return

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: The theme of suicide is raised in this chapter

It was a pale, drawn Spike who returned to work on Friday morning. He arrived at 5am to join the rest of the Team for their workout. He'd chosen his outfit carefully, making sure the sleeves were long enough to cover the needle marks on his arms while not calling too much attention to him.

He needn’t have bothered. Ed took one look at him and told him to sit the exercise out. More precisely, he told Spike ”Sit, there, now.” while pointing to the bench at the side of the room. Spike wasn’t in form for an argument so sat without complaint, watching and listening to the others' banter. There were more than a few concerned looks levelled in his direction and the emotional balance of the room took a downward turn after he arrived.

Greg walked in a few minutes later and greeted the Team enthusiastically. When he caught sight of Spike he did a double take and Spike was unsurprised when moments later Greg sat down on the bench beside him.

He was surprised when Greg placed a hand on his shoulder and tried to initiate a link. Spike’s reaction was instinctive, he twisted his shoulders and pushed Greg’s hand away, going so far as to stand and move a few steps back. “Don’t. Dr. Toth said no physical linking unless absolutely necessary.”

He didn’t realise the violence of his reaction until he noticed everyone in the room had stopped and turned to look their way. Greg was still sitting but was holding his hands out, palms up. He looked a little shocked but his voice was calm. “Okay Mike, okay.” When Spike didn’t move to sit back down, Greg added. “I’m sorry if I startled you.”

Spike reluctantly sat back down beside the older man and made his excuses. “Sorry, I’m just a little tired.”

“Vacation not so restful after all?”

“Not so much.” He replied after a moment.

“If you want to go home..” Greg began.

“No.” Spike answered before Greg could finish the question. “I need to clock some Sentinel contact time and you guys will need to stabilise after the time off.”

“Alright.” Greg moved to stand up but hesitated. “You’d tell me if something was wrong, wouldn’t you Mike?”

“Nothing's wrong.” Spike answered. Too quickly, he knew, but though Greg gave him a sharp look, he didn’t pursue it further and went to join Ed on the treadmills.

Spike resisted the urge to flop down and lie on the bench, instead moving back to lean against the wall and contemplate the ceiling; anything to avoid the curious stares from Team One, whose confusion and bewilderment he could feel clearly.

***

When Spike had finally been allowed to leave the research lab on Thursday morning, he’d been taken back to his apartment by cab.

He collapsed into bed for a few hours before dragging himself into the kitchen in search of food. Given he hadn't eaten in three days, his stomach was understandably unsettled and he hesitated to try more than dry toast.

As he sat there chewing slowly he mulled over his options. The future had never looked so bleak though admittedly it hadn’t looked promising since his coming online as a Guide. More and more he was beginning to see the truth. Toth wasn’t placing him with Team One because he wanted to utilise Spike’s talents to the full, he as doing so because he wanted to work out the limitations of Spike's abilities. And once he’d done that, Spike would be much more useful as a full time lab subject than as a Guide.

Spike knew he wouldn’t survive that, mentally or physically. He knew a time would come when he’d have to take matters into his own hands. Most of his escape routes were cut off. As a Guide he wasn’t allowed travel internationally and with his empathy range would never survive a boat journey without the presence of a sentinel. Running away to live in some remote wilderness was at least plausible, but getting away and managing to stay hidden were two very different things. Once he ran, there would be a manhunt and it was only a matter of time before they tracked him down. 

There was another way to escape, one he’d only ever considered in the darkest recesses of his mind. More and more it was starting to look like his only real option.

Knowing that was his likely fate, he decided that he had to make the time he had count. Under Dr. Toth’s restrictions, he’d live a lonely, sad existence until his death. So he decided to put some of his other talents to use.

***

The afternoon of his return, he waited until the team were doing some outdoor practise before quietly raiding the supply closets for some bits and pieces which he stored in his bag. The team returned to find him exactly where they’d left him in the briefing room.

“So Mike, we were going to order pizza. Are you in?” Sam asked. “Sure.” Spike answered after a pause, taken aback by the invitation. 

“Do Guides even eat pizza?” Jules asked, with a smile at Spike.

“We mostly survive on Sentinel ego, though we do occasionally break out.” He answered smoothly and was surprised when it got a laugh out of the group, Sentinel and non-Sentinel alike. 

The concern he’d felt from them all day lessened a little and he tried to relax into the conversation going on around him. He knew they hadn’t forgotten the events of the morning. Greg kept giving him searching looks when he thought Spike wasn’t looking and Ed seemed irritated just looking at him.

Spike had just bit in to a slice of pizza, savouring the taste after his long fast when Ed spoke and the source of his irritation was made clear. 

“Why do you smell chemically, like disinfectant or something?”

Spike had to look up to be sure he was talking to him and took a moment to chew and swallow before attempting to answer. He knew given how closely Ed was watching him that he’d pick up a downright lie so he stuck close to the truth. “I had some tests at the Guide research lab. Routine stuff.”

“Oh.” Ed turned his attention back to his pizza and Spike let himself relax again.

“Do they do those often?” Ed asked.

Sighing inwardly, Spike put his pizza back down on his napkin. “Um, every few months I guess.” He didn’t reach for his pizza again, knowing the level of curiosity Ed was channelling meant more questions were forthcoming.

“What kind of tests does it involve?”

Spike was cursing his luck that Ed would suddenly decide to take an interest in something Guide-related when he’d been so consistently uninterested up until then.

“The usual stuff. Blood and hair samples, EEGs, neurological scans. They inject dyes for those sometimes, that’s probably the chemically smell you’re getting. They take a few days to work their way out of your system.” Spike could see Ed was poised to ask another question.

“Ed, stop interrogating him and let him eat his pizza in peace.” Greg interrupted before Ed could speak again.

Grateful for the interruption, Spike reached for his pizza and relaxed again as another conversation started up and flowed around him.

***

That night he went home and carefully opened the casing on the monitor at his front door, then used the equipment he’d borrowed to hack into the monitor without detection. It took time and some careful manipulation but when he’d finished, he’d hardwired the monitor so that he could control its input from his phone. No more of the Sentinel Guide Authority keeping tabs on when he came and went.

***

They next day saw a handful of call outs that were over almost before the team arrived. It left everyone a little antsy and needing to blow off some steam. 

“Let’s do some hand to hand close combat training. Wordy, you’re it.” Ed said as they arrived back to HQ for the third time that day. “Mike, join us.”

“Um… that’s really not my…” he was hoping Ed would give him an out, considering he’d sat out their pre-shift work out again. Ed stopped and gave him a look. “Join us. It’s just a bit of hand to hand. It won’t kill you.” It was more order than invitation. Spike delayed going to the locker room until he was sure the others were finished and changed quickly.

Ed raised eyebrows at his long sleeved top but didn’t comment, a fact Spike was grateful for. Wordy went through a few moves with the others before spending some time going through the basics with Spike. 

Spike wasn’t clear on exactly what happened next. Thinking back on it afterwards, he felt maybe it was meant to be a practical joke. He was paired with Jules and one second he was standing beside her and the next she was flipping him and he landed flat on his back.

There was a second of nothingness before a blinding pain stabbed through him from his lower back at the site of the lumbar puncture and from his head where the ever present headache flared suddenly to life.

His instinct was to curl up on his side to try to relieve the pain. He knew there were words being spoken to him but he couldn’t focus on them. He felt a hand tentatively touch his side and he managed to force out words. “Don’t touch me. Don’t touch me.” Mercifully the hand withdrew.

He focused on his breathing, trying to slow it down, pushing the air in and out with as little movement as possible while the pain slowly eased. As soon as he was able he moved, getting his hands under him and pushing himself to his knees. Hands moved to help him.

“Don’t touch me.” He ground out again. How many times did he have to say it?

“We just want to help buddy.” Ed’s voice, close to his ear. 

“Yeah? Then back off.” There was more venom in his voice than he'd intended.

“Mike, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean…” Jules spoke from somewhere nearby.

He didn’t bother to reply, focused instead on getting to his feet. The pain was bad but not as blinding as it had been. He stumbled his way out of the room, aware of a quiet conversation and the fact that he was being shadowed closely as he walked to the locker room.

He wanted to throw up, but he didn’t want the blinding pain that throwing up would lead to. He lowered himself to sit on a bench and just focused on breathing. It didn’t help that the team’s emotions were crowding him, not to mention the handful of other staff around to witness it. He wished there was some way to shut it all out. He wished for it all to end.

When it eased off enough that he could think and talk, Sam offered to drive him home. Spike accepted the offer, if only because he was fairly certain he wouldn’t make it there by himself.

He took some pain pills from his bag on the way home and swallowed them dry. Sam, at the steering wheel next to him, saw but said nothing.

Later that day, after the pain killers had kicked in, he decided to visit his parents. They were surprised to see him and though they acted happy at his appearance he felt their reservations about his status as a Guide. He stayed for dinner but it was awkward, especially when they realised he was working with military and police. His father’s long standing disapproval of his career choice reared its head. Spike’s mother managed to defuse the situation but Spike didn’t stay long after they ate. His mother embraced him before he left and he let himself relax in her arms, just for a minute. He couldn’t quite keep the tears from his eyes. His mother’s last words were a whisper. “Come home soon Michelangelo”.

He left with the knowledge that the visit had been his last.

***

Things were smoothed over the next day. Jules apologised and Spike blamed his ever present headache on the problem, relieved when they accepted the explanation almost without question. Greg did ask a few pointed questions about his headaches and Spike managed to fudge some answers that sounded sort of plausible.

What really put their minds at ease was his agreement to join them for a drink after shift. Sam had invited him and the team were pleasantly surprised when he readily agreed. They went to the Team's usual hangout, the Goose, Spike being careful to access the monitor feed on his phone on the way to make it seem like he was home. He and Greg were the only ones not drinking but no one questioned either of them, Guides not handling their alcohol being a well known fact in popular culture.

It was like being back in his days on the force, hanging around with his buddies after work. There was laughter, storytelling and some good-natured teasing. Spike was even hit on by a cute girl at the bar when he bought the third round. For a while he forgot his worries, forgot his status as a Guide.

The night grew late and Spike grew tired. He was still not fully recovered from his stay at the lab and his prolonged fast. Greg chose to play designated driver. Spike was his last drop off. He stopped the car and Spike went to get out.

"Hold on a second Mike. I just wanted to check how you were doing? You haven't been yourself the past few days." Spike almost laughed at Greg's words and the idea that he had any idea what Spike was really like.

"I'm doing better. The tests they do at the lab can be a bit taxing." Understatement of the year, Spike knew, but what could he say? They're systematically torturing me and there's nothing you can do about it? It was hard enough dealing with their concern and confusion; the kind of emotions Spike's honesty might produce were more than he wanted to contemplate. Even worse was the idea that they might not react, might truly not care what was happening to Spike. It was just a Guide thing, after all.

"If you're sure that's all it is then okay, but I'm thinking I might need to have a word with Dr. Toth about those headaches of yours." Greg said.

"They're getting better." Spike said, trying not to sound scared or desperate.

"Well we'll keep an eye on them buddy. We need you in top shape to Guide us. We couldn't do our job without you." When Greg spoke to Spike like that, he felt a warmth spring up inside him. He felt worth something. He wished Greg goodnight and got out of the car. It took the short journey up to his apartment for the warm feeling to wane and reality to weigh heavily on his mind.

***

Things came to a head the day after. They were called to a jumper on a bridge. A woman. Spike stayed in the SUV while Greg talked to her and Jules backed him up. Ed and Sam were trying to corral the gawkers while Wordy tried to discover the woman’s identity and get some background information.

Spike wasn’t sure what the problem was exactly. At first he thought it was his proximity to her. Her emotions were so clear and so strong. Then he realised the truth; she too was empathic, was a Guide. Her emotions resonated through him. Hopelessness, worthlessness, the knowledge that nothing lay ahead but blackness and darkness. 

They got an ID and it all became clear. A carbon monoxide leak, husband and two children gone. She was working nights at the hospital and was spared. Had come home to a house of bodies. He saw it clearly in his mind, her running from room to room shaking them, desperate to wake them, hugging her blue, lifeless baby close to her and screaming. She had been latent, the shock brought her online. And now the Sentinel Guide Authority had stolen her future.

Greg was talking to her but Spike could see he wasn’t getting through. He got out of the SUV, unnoticed by the team, and stood near the railing, far away from where Greg and Jules were talking to the shell of a human being that was left. The woman turned her head to look at him. Their eyes met.

He knew how she was feeling, precisely what emotions were running through her but he was helpless to effect any change. They resonated within him, all those feelings; a mirror of his own. 

There was a sudden flurry of activity at the centre of the bridge. The team taking advantage of the woman’s distraction. She was back over the barrier, safe, and sobbing in Greg and Jules’ arms. But there was no relief, not for her. Paramedics approached and he watched as they led her away to the waiting ambulance on the other side of the bridge.

The feelings didn’t fade as she moved away and it took time to realise why. She hadn't given him the emotions, they were already there. He'd been standing on the ledge long before he’d met her.

His hands were on the railing and he was climbing over before his mind had quite caught up. The crystal clarity of his thoughts right at that moment was such a sight to behold. The emotions of all those around him faded into the distance. 

He took a deep breath, feeling the cold of the metal rail in his grip, and let go.


	9. In/sight

One minute Mike was in the back of the SUV, the next he was gone. Ed glanced around before catching sight of him at the railing. He made a mental note to talk to him about the rules. He wasn’t supposed to leave the SUV during an active call.

He turned his attention back to where their subject, their emotionally disturbed person, was being escorted to an ambulance. He was relieved that Greg and Jules had managed to get her down safely. He was about to head in their direction when something made him glance back towards Mike, sentinel hearing catching the odd sound of feet on metal. 

His brain took half a second to comprehend what he saw. Mike, climbing over the railing. What the hell was he doing? He yelled Mike’s name as he took off towards him. 

***

Greg had just handed the sobbing woman off to the paramedics and let Jules accompany them back to the ambulance. He’d seen something amiss in the seconds before they’d taken her down off the ledge. But what? A sudden feeling of wrongness overwhelmed him and he breathed out one word. “Spike.” Before turning to see Mike standing on the ledge staring down into the abyss below. He ran.

***

Greg got there seconds before Ed, hearing Ed yell Mike’s name as he ran. The young man didn’t respond to the shouts and as Greg reached him, he loosened his grip on the railing. 

Greg’s hand clamped around one wrist and Mike was looking at him suddenly, eyes clear but haunted. 

“There’s nothing left. She was right. I need to do this.”

Greg tried to link, but he hit a wall. “Mike, take a step back. You don’t need to do anything.”

Ed reached them a second later. He didn’t wait to talk, to argue, he simply wrapped his arms around Mike’s torso and pulled him bodily back over the railing. Mike’s legs gave out as they hit the pavement and Ed went to his knees trying to keep them both upright.

“She was right.” Mike was saying again, eyes searching out Greg’s. “We’re not even human anymore.”

***

“Get him in the SUV, now.” Greg barked suddenly. Ed hauled Mike to his feet and Greg grabbed his other arm. Between them the got Mike into the car. Ed got in after him and Greg went around and got in the other side.

“What the hell were you thinking Mike?” Ed rounded on him, furious. But Mike didn’t acknowledge him or Greg. He seemed oblivious to his surroundings.

Greg spoke instead. “She was a Guide. Our subject. Eddie, she was a Guide.”

Ed struggled to understand the emphasis Greg was placing on the woman’s status. “You’re saying that’s why he tried to jump off the bridge, because he, what? Picked up on her suicidality?”

Greg was shaking his head. “I don’t know, but it’s one hell of a coincidence.”

Sam was at the door then, Wordy behind him.

“What happened? Is he okay?”

“We’re not sure.” Ed answered, then thinking quickly asked. “Did anyone see?” 

“Not really, too busy watching the show on the other side of the bridge. A few of the Officers on the perimeter saw some of it.” 

“Go and reassure them everything is fine. Tell them we’ve a ride along with no head for heights.” Ed told them. 

As the door closed again, Ed turned to the young man sitting between them. He seemed unnaturally quiet. “Mike, are you okay?” There was no response. Ed waved a hand in front of his face, but he didn’t react. “Mike, come on, say something. What happened out there buddy?” He didn’t reply and Ed turned to Greg, feeling powerless to help. “I think we should call Toth.”

He was surprised at Greg’s answer. “No Eddie, I think Toth might be the last person we should call.”

Anger flared in Ed, borne of helplessness at the situation. “He’s practically catatonic. What do you suggest we do?”

Greg was looking at Mike intently. He reached a hand out and rested the back of his fingers on Mike’s face. Mike didn’t react to the touch. Then Greg called one word softly. “Spike?”

Mike raised his head and looked around, confused. On seeing Greg he said plaintively. “You can’t call me that.” Then his gaze became unfocused once more.

“Spike, buddy, stay with me.” Greg said, his relief at getting some sort of reaction fading quickly as Mike withdrew into himself once more.

“Greg, we are out of our depth here.” Ed warned.

“Okay, you're right. I’ll make the call.” Greg said with resignation.

Ed and Greg stayed with Mike in the car while they waited for the Guide Centre’s ambulance to arrive. Mike came to enough to take some interest in what was going on around him as they put him into the back of the ambulance. 

“It’s okay Mike, they’re going to take you to the Guide Centre and get you looked after.” As Greg stepped back, Mike's hand shot out and grasped his arm. For a millisecond the link flared to life between them before the paramedic quickly detached Mike’s arm and tucked it under the blanket. “Don’t worry Sentinel. We’ll take good care of him.” The paramedic said soothingly.

The doors closed and they drove away.

***

Spike woke up lying on a cold metal table, hearing the beep of machines around him. “The Guide is conscious.” Someone said as his eyes flickered open. He was restrained and could feel the muted sensation that told him that rescue medication was running through his veins.

“How do you feel Guide Scarlatti?” a voice asked. Not Dr. Toth, one of the other senior researchers. “Fuzzy.” He managed to say. “What happened?”

“You had an unfortunate close encounter with an unstable newly online Guide. We think you linked empathically and it had some unintended consequences. We've worked hard to stabilise you, we're confident you're going to be fine.”

There was an expectant pause. “Thank you Dr. Richards.” Spike said, recalling the woman’s name.

As he came fully conscious he began to take more notice of the room around him. He was in one of the Centre's medical bays. It was cold, as it always was, and he couldn’t move his arms or legs with the restraints. He could turn his head but that was it. He wore the standard issue gown and trousers. 

There was an IV line going in to his left hand with what Dr. Richards had told him was rescue medication. A nurse sat nearby, making notes. After a few minutes she looked up, catching his eye.

“Guide Scarlatti, back so soon? Dr. Toth is not best pleased. What were you doing linking with that woman, hmm?”

He didn’t answer and she didn't speak again. Nothing happened for a while, the only sound the beep of machines echoing through the room, until the door opened.

“Dr. Toth.” The nurse said in greeting. “Guide Scarlatti’s vitals are stable but his empathic fields are still fluctuating.”

Toth came to stand at the head of Spike’s bed, looking down at him. Spike couldn’t get any sense of his emotions, between the rescue medication and his empathy blocker, but his face and tone clearly conveyed his displeasure.

“Guide Scarlatti, you are trying my patience. Linking with another empath? You know the rules.” As he spoke he detached the IV from the line going in to Spike's arm.

“It wasn’t deliberate Dr. Toth. I…”

“And now your empathic fields have destabilised. I’ve never seen such a severe destabilisation.” He shook his head as he regarded Spike. “Nurse, help me move him.”

They undid the straps and manoeuvred Spike onto his side, then re-secured him, tying his wrists to the upper corner of the table like they’d done for his lumbar puncture.

“What do you need Doctor?” the nurse asked. 

“I need you to prep the back of his neck. I’m going to insert a subdermal monitor.” Spike, who had known nothing good was coming his way when they started strapping him down again, tried to turn to see what they were talking about.

“Dr. Toth?” he asked. 

“Not another word Mike. My patience has run thin and you’re disrupting my testing schedule. If I were you, I’d find solace in silence.” Cold, wet liquid was wiped across the back of his neck.

He was surprised when Toth walked around into his line of sight and began to talk again.

“In the interests of education, let me explain what I’m doing. Your empathic fields have destabilised, which means you’re unusually vulnerable to any strong emotion, like that of a suicidal woman. We need to monitor your fields and attempt to reset them. To do that effectively, we use this.”

He held up a device in front of Spike’s face. It was an inch long, millimetre thick needle attached to a flat base. There were wires coming out of the other side of the base.

“It’s a subdermal field monitor. It goes under the skin at the back of the neck, at the site the dermal monitor normally sits.”

“The insertion site has been disinfected Dr. Toth.” The nurse said.

Toth walked around behind Spike again. Spike worked hard to keep calm. He knew there was no way this wasn’t going to hurt. He pulled ineffectually at his wrist restraints.

“Nurse, bend his head forward and hold him still.” Dr. Toth said, his voice calm and cool and Spike's head was tugged sharply forward, baring his neck. 

It was nothing like the careful, slow insertion of the lumbar puncture needle, it instead was a sharp jab that forced a yell of pain from Spike’s mouth. He took short, sharp breaths, panting through the residual pain. The device sent sharp shocks up to his head. “Take it out, please take it out.”

“That wouldn’t be doing what’s best for you, Guide Scarlatti. If we don’t stabilise your empathic field, you’ll be useless to us. Nurse, attach the electrodes. Start at a low voltage.”

Voltage? The word echoed in Spike’s brain. That didn’t sound good.

“Our research on empathic fields is still in its infancy. We do know it’s electrochemical in origin and that the rescue medication suppresses your field on a temporary basis through chemical means. Our only other way to manipulate the field is through the use of electricity. We have had some success with this approach but it’s unpredictable.”

There was the sound of a charge building, then a sharp pulse through the device in his neck. He had a nanosecond to wonder before the agony hit. This time he screamed, pulling at his restraints in a desperate attempt to get away. He heard Toth's voice again as if from a distance.

“It’s fortunate that the empathic field is so sensitive to the introduction of electricity. Useful for us, as it allows us to carry out a procedure like this, but painful for you. It will, I hope, serve as a reminder about not taking careless risks with your talent.”

Spike lay there, sobbing breathlessly.

“The shocks are spaced at a frequency of about four an hour. We’ll give it two hours, reassess your fields, and increase the voltage if necessary.” He heard the door open and close as Toth left the room.

“Try and relax, Guide Scarlatti. This will be easier on all of us if you do.” The nurse said.

***

“What do you want to do?” Ed asked as the ambulance pulled away.

“Our shift is over so let’s get go back to the station, do the debrief and head home. Tomorrow I’ll contact the Guide Centre, talk to Toth and try and get some answers.”

Ed left the SUV to round up the rest of the team. Ten minutes later he returned with Sam. He and Sam got into the front, Ed in the driver’s seat.

About ten minutes into the journey, Sam spoke. “Guy, I have a suggestion.”

“What’s that?” Greg asked, curious.

“A few weeks ago I had dinner with the General. It was just after Mike started with us. I happened to mention that he had done some military ops. My father did a bit of digging and gave me the name of a contact who’d worked with Mike in case we wanted any background. A Lieutenant called Leo Matthews. I hadn’t really thought it was necessary before but it might answer some of our questions.”

“Make the call Sam.” Ed said.

A few minutes later, after a brief conversation, Sam hung up and turned to them. “You get all that?” “Sorry Sam, I wasn’t listening in.” Greg said by way of apology, deep in thought about their Guide. 

“He can talk to us. He wants to set up a Skype call, said he’d be free in an hour.”

When they got reached headquarters, they debriefed with the rest of the team then Sam took a laptop to set up for the call. Ten minutes later the three of them were sitting in front of the laptop, each focused on the dark haired Sentinel in fatigues on the screen.

“Lieutenant Matthews, we appreciate you taking the call.” Greg said after they’d introduced themselves. 

“Call me Leo. And it’s no problem, I’ve been curious about how Spike was getting along.”

“Spike?” Ed asked, giving Greg a sideways look as he recognised the name he’d called Mike in the car.

“Mike’s nickname, from his days in the police force I think. You didn’t know?” he asked.

“We don’t know that much about him really.” Greg admitted.

“I’m not surprised. I could see they way things were going with Toth’s interference.”

“What do you mean? What kind of interference?” Sam asked.

“Well, it’s like this. We were the first team Spike was assigned to, his first on the ground training guiding Sentinels. We knew he was a little different but we did things the way we always did. Step by step guidance, frequent linking, making sure he was working in a supported environment. Toth withdrew him from training after only eight weeks. Then reintroduced him to another team after a month. He also introduced restrictions, insisting on more remote stabilisation, more superficial links. No socialising, no nicknames." He paused for a moment to make sure they were following.

"I was curious about Toth's plan for Spike so I kept an eye on him. It didn't take long before I saw the pattern. He'd place him on a team then pull him after 2 or 3 months. Spike would disappear for a month, then be placed on another team, with more restrictions each time. Every time I saw Spike he would be more withdrawn and looking a little worse for wear; like he wasn’t recovering between stints.”

Leo shook his head, eyes full of regret.

“Then he was withdrawn altogether. And I hadn’t heard anything until General Braddock contacted me a few weeks ago. I was surprised to find him placed with you guys, but I suppose it makes sense to Toth.”

“What do you mean, withdrawn? Toth said he could be seconded to the military as needed.” Greg asked.

Leo was shaking his head again. “No, Toth had him pulled him from the Guide pool. I’ve checked his file since, the only place he can be seconded to is the Guide Research lab. I’ve heard some nightmare stories about that place. Most of them will do almost anything to avoid going there but very few will talk about why.”

The three Sentinel’s exchanged looks. “What did I say?” Leo asked.

“Mike was there last week. He said they did a few tests. When he came back he looked like hell but didn’t tell us why. He’s there now.” Ed said and filled Leo in on what had transpired during their call.

“What exactly it is Toth wants?” Greg asked Leo. Leo shook his head before voicing his answer. “Honestly, I don’t know his endgame except that his goal seems to be a Guide who can function completely remotely, stabilising Sentinels without needing any physical contact.”

“So Mike's placement in SRU, what’s that about?” asked Sam.

“My guess is it’s a longitudinal testing of his ability to Guide remotely.” Leo said. “That’s the only reason I can think of that they’d have brought him back to the Lab before the end of the placement.”

The conversation continued for another half an hour, Leo asking some questions of the new Sentinels. He seemed surprised by their lack of knowledge about Guides and tried his best to fill in some of the blanks.

As he signed off, he gave them one last bit of information. “Bottom line is, I don’t think Toth is right. I don’t think it’s possible to have a completely remote Guide. From the handful of times I ran into Spike after his placement with us, he looked progressively drained. I suspect ultimately it will kill him, if Toth doesn’t squash his spirit before then.” The Sentinel looked grim.

After Leo disconnected the call, the three Sentinels sat in silence for a while.

“Why didn’t Mike tell us any of this?” Ed asked.

“Why would he? He doesn’t know us, doesn’t trust us. We’ve been treating him like a piece of equipment, not a member of this team.” Greg spoke sharply.

“That’s not true.” Ed started to protest.

“Okay, then tell me one personal thing you know about him? Hmm?” Ed couldn’t meet Greg’s eyes. “How about you Sam?” 

“You’re right, we haven’t exactly been welcoming.” Sam admitted.

“So what do we do?” Ed asked, “How do we make this right?”

Greg started to speak but then jolted suddenly and looked around.

“Greg, what is it?” 

“Mike… I thought I.” He stopped. “I thought I felt something through the link.” 

“That’s happened before, hasn’t it?” Sam asked.

“Yeah, when we were on vacation. I got hold of Mike in the end. He said he was at home and everything was fine but now I’m wondering if he was at the lab.”

“Why are you feeling it and not us?” Ed asked, puzzled.

“Mike had a physical link with me during that call a few weeks ago, at the farm, if I had to guess I'd say that's why.” Greg winced again. “I think he’s in pain.”

Ed and Sam exchanged a concerned look before Ed made a suggestion. “Let’s go to the Guide Centre, check on Mike and get some answers.”


	10. Reprieve

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After chapter 8, which I wrote about two weeks ago, this story got tricky. I did a quick count and I have no less than 13 different versions of the two chapters subsequent to it. Like a handful of alternate universes, none of which seemed quite right until I wrote these.

The lab staff were surprised to see them. “Sentinels, this is unexpected. What can I do for you?” said the man who introduced himself as Jonathan Tobin, the lab director. 

“It’s Sergeant Parker and Constable’s Lane and Braddock. We wanted to check on Mike Scarlatti, get an idea of how he was and talk to whomever is looking after him.”

The man looked like he was working up to a refusal so Ed tried a different tack.

“We have a few concerns about Scarlatti’s fitness as a Guide in light of what happened today.”

The man’s expression went from one of surprise to understanding. “Of course, Officer Lane. Let me see if I can get hold of Dr. Richards, Guide Scarlatti is under her care as Dr. Toth is presently off-site. I’ll see if she is free to talk to you.”

He disappeared into his office. Ed tried to listen in on his conversation but the place was well equipped with white noise generators. The director returned a few minutes later.

“Officers, Dr. Richards would be happy to talk to you. She’ll be free in about half an hour. If you don’t mind taking a seat.” He gestured to waiting area.

“We’ll see Mike while we’re waiting.” Ed said, surprised to find the man pale a little and his heart rate increase. “Guide Scarlatti is resting right now, Officer Lane.”

“We won’t disturb him. We just want to see him and get an idea if he’s likely to be fit for work this week.” Ed said with a smile, watching carefully to note the Director’s response.

After a pause to consider, the Director went back to speak to Dr. Richards. He returned a minute later. “I’m afraid Guide Scarlatti isn’t well enough for visitors at the moment. Dr. Richards will come and speak to your shortly.”

The three men took a seat in the waiting room, none too pleased with the Director’s response. Greg winced again, going so far as to put a hand to his head. “It’s getting worse. I don’t know if it’s because we’re closer or he’s in more pain. Guys, we need to find him.”

“Well, we know he must be nearby but with all the white noise generators, there’s no way we’ll pinpoint him.” Sam said

“So what do we do…” Ed trailed off, catching sight of a uniformed man hovering just outside the door.

“Are you… Guide Scarlatti’s Sentinels?” the red haired man whispered.

“Yeah, who are you?” Sam asked, keeping his voice down.

“I work here, I’m an orderly. Your Guide, he’s in bad shape.” The three men exchanged surprised looks.

“Can you take us to him?” “I shouldn’t, but I will. After that, you’re on your own.”

***

After the first half hour, the nurse left Spike to his torment. The pain in the back of his neck didn’t get better and every fifteen minutes like clockwork agony exploded from it, through his skull and down his back. His empathy was swinging wildly, one moment he could sense nothing, the next, he was subsumed by someone else’s frustration or pain or misery. It didn’t take long for him to work out that it was other Guide’s he was sensing. Guides just like him, trapped in this nightmare.

He struggled again to free his hands but there was no give in his restraints. The minutes ticked down slowly to the next shock. “Make it stop, please make it stop.” he called out, voice hoarse, unable to block out the emotions around him. Silence answered him, except for the beeps of the machines surrounding him. He couldn’t take much more of this and wished, more than anything, that he’d let go on the bridge that morning, let himself fall. 

The door opened just as the next shock started building and he whimpered in anticipation of the pain. Then there was a hand on his face and his neck and he struggled futilely. The shock hit and he cried out. Then, abruptly, it cut off and his world went black.

***

As the orderly led them through the lab, he told them a little about what he’d seen during Mike’s last visit. He painted a bleak picture, especially when he told them how he’d found Mike strapped down and nearly naked in a freezing cold laboratory. It raised a lot of questions that hadn’t even crossed Greg’s mind thus far.

They reached the medical bay Mike was in and the orderly moved to unlock the door. Greg stood frozen in the doorway at the sight of Mike tied down to a table and attached to machines. He was whimpering, the sound echoing through the otherwise quiet room.

Ed pushed past him into the room and reached for the young Guide. “What the hell is this?” he asked the orderly, lightly touching Mike's face before leaning over to examine the device in his neck. The orderly shook his head, pale as a ghost. “I don’t know. I don’t know.”

Mike’s eyes were screwed tightly shut and he struggled when Ed’s hand touched him. “Easy Mike, easy buddy. We’re gonna get you out of here. Guys, he's freezing cold.” He took a closer look at the wires attached to the device in Mike's neck. “Sam, is that generating some kind of current?”

Sam moved to join Ed on the other side of the room, pushing past Greg who still stood in the doorway. There was a sudden whine from the machine attached to Mike and he cried out. Greg reacted abruptly, moving between them, reaching for the device and yanking it out of Mike’s neck. Mike went limp.

“Help me get these restraints off.” Ed said, and he and Sam released Mike. Ed took off his jacket and wrapped Mike in it before picking him up, noting with a frown how light he felt in his arms.

“We need to get out of here, now.”

“I’ll let you out the side door. We had better hurry, security won’t be long figuring out what happened.” The orderly turned to lead the way.

“What about you?”

“I’ll be handing in my notice and they’ll be escorting me to the door before the end of the day. It’ll be worth it, I can’t stand by and watch what they’re doing to those poor Guides.”

True to his word, he brought them to a door that led out to the side of the building. He disappeared back inside, closing the door before they could thank him. Sam took Mike from Ed’s arms and Greg led the way to the wooded area surrounding the lab while Ed jogged ahead to get the car. They used the cover of the trees to stay out of sight while walking in the direction of the car park. Ed drove the car to where the woods bordered on the car park and they quickly got in.

“Where to?” Ed asked as they drove off. Reassured by the steady thump of Mike’s heartbeat in his ears his focused his senses on the road, watching to see if anyone was in pursuit. He turned up the heat as he caught sight of Mike shivering in the back seat.

Greg and Sam were sitting in the back with Mike between them. Sam had a cloth pressed against Mike’s neck to stem the slow flow of blood from where they’d removed the device. Mike was out cold, unresponsive to Greg’s gentle attempts to rouse him. He started shivering even more violently. Greg took off his own coat, wrapping it around Mike over Ed's then rubbed hands up and down Mike's arms to try and get some warmth into him.

“Let’s head to my place. Sam, call Leo Matthews again, let's see if he can shed some light on what’s going on.”

They reached Greg’s house and went in, settling Mike on the couch while Greg covered him with a blanket and went to turn the heating on.

Sam got hold of Leo on the third attempt. Greg took the phone and filled him in on what happened, then put him on speaker.

“Guys, you’ve made a pretty fatal error here. Taking a Guide from the Centre like that is not going to go down well. No-one supercedes their authority over Guides, except bonded Sentinels and the Centre does its best to prevent those.”

Greg had heard about bonding between Sentinels and Guides but didn’t know the particulars. “Why is that?”

“Because when Sentinels die suddenly bonded Guides don’t always recover. And it suits the military not to have Sentinels that are so attached to their Guides that they put their well being above all else. Bonded Sentinel's can be very protective of their Guides.”

“Any idea what the device in Mike’s neck was for?” Ed interrupted their conversation.

“You said he formed some sort of link with another Guide earlier today?”

“A newly online, emotionally distressed, suicidal one, yeah.” Ed said.

“Sounds like it might have destabilised his empathic fields. It’s rare but it happens. They use a device like what you describe to try and reset them.”

“He was screaming like a tortured animal because of that device.” Ed interjected.

“Look Ed, I know you meant well, but you might have done him a disservice in the long term. Unstable empathic fields can lead to neuroleptic malignant syndrome and death.”

“Are you saying we need to take him back to the Centre?” Sam asked

“They’re going to come for him anyway.” Leo said. “But… there is another option.”

“What’s that?” Greg asked.

“Bond with him. You’ll stabilise his empathic field and the Centre, and Dr. Toth, will have minimal influence over him.”

“So you’re saying one of us needs to bond with him? What will that mean for the other two?”

“Look guys, I’m no expert, but I have done research into the origins of Guides and Sentinels. There are stories from primitive tribes about Guides like Spike, who could Guide their Sentinels from miles away. And when I say Sentinels, I mean plural. I suspect just like he can stabilise multiple Sentinels at time he can bond to multiple Sentinels. It’s also protective. If one of the Sentinels dies, the Guide has the others to buffer him. If only one of you bonds, only one of you will have stable senses.”

“How do we bond? I’ve heard it mentioned before but only in the vaguest terms.” Sam asked.

“It’s basically a deep link between Sentinel and Guide, initiated with physical contact and maintained for a prolonged period.”

“Would we do it one by one or…” Greg said

“As I said, this isn’t my area of expertise but I’d guess to be sure, all three together. And soon, unless you want the Centre to intervene.”

“Thanks for you help Leo, we had better talk amongst ourselves and makes some decisions.”

“No problem. If you need any more advice, you know how to get a hold of me.” Greg ended the call. The three men looked at each other but no one spoke.

“Is this really what we want to do? Tie ourselves to this Guide for life?” Ed asked.

“Are you really willing to hand him back to Toth’s tender care?” Greg replied.

There was a sudden cry from the couch and Mike sat up, eyes wide.

“Mike?” Ed called, moving to crouch beside him. Mike stared at him, eyes unseeing. Ed reached out a hand. “Buddy?” Mike reacted to the touch, scooting backwards, hands going up around his head. “No no no…”

“Mike?” There was no reaction to the sound of his name. Ed took a chance and tried again. “Spike?”

Mike's voice halted and he lowered his hands, eyes meeting Ed’s. He spoke quietly, voice resigned. “It’s okay. You can drop me back at the Centre. I’ll be back at work in a few days.”

“You want to go back?” Ed asked, incredulous.

“I don’t want to be any trouble. A Guide shouldn’t be an imposition.” Mike's tired eyes held Ed’s gaze for another moment before they rolled back in his head and he slumped backwards.

Ed reached over, laying him down and covering him with the blanket. He stayed crouched at Mike's side for a moment watching him before turning to the others.

“If we’re going to do this, we need a plan. Leo is right, the Centre won’t be far behind us.”

***

Twenty minutes later they were on the road. Ed driving, Sam beside him and Greg with Mike bundled up in blankets in the backseat. The lights of the city gradually faded into the distance as they drove.


	11. Connections

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who's reading along, I think we've finally reached the turning point. Just to warn you, updates will be less frequent for the next while.

Mike still hadn’t woken by the time they’d reached their destination. During their journey he regained consciousness for seconds at a time, eyes flying open, a cry on his lips, like he was mid-nightmare. It took them some time to work out that strong emotions from them, and from further afield, were triggering these spells and that that probably wasn’t a good sign.

They had passed a collision on the road, rescue vehicles already in attendance cutting people free from the wreckage. Greg had struggled to keep a hold of a suddenly alert and agitated Mike. Sam had almost wound up climbing into the backseat to help hold him but once they put some distance between them and the crash Mike fell unconscious once more.

Greg had tried to rouse him in order to talk to him about their plan, feeling they needed to get some kind of agreement from Mike before they proceeded but it was soon clear that wasn’t going to happen.

“I think he’s getting worse, like Leo said he would.” Greg said, as they pulled up beside the dark house. Mike’s brief lapses into awareness were getting less frequent. They’d stopped at a gas station and picked up some supplies, guessing they might need a few days in isolation to do what Leo had suggested.

“Then let’s get him inside.” Ed replied, getting out of the car. He headed for the front door while Sam helped Greg with Mike. They got him inside and lying down on the couch while Ed went back out and fetched their supplies.

“His pulse is a little fast.” Sam said. “I don’t think we should wait much longer.”

They laid him down on a rug in the middle of the floor. Leo hadn't given them much to go on in terms of how they should do this. Greg was the only one who’d had any kind of experience linking physically and that had been a superficial link tightly controlled by Mike. He hadn’t had to do anything except not resist it.

“So how do we do this?” Sam asked the question on all their minds.

“I guess we make ourselves comfortable, find a patch of bare skin and hold on. Hopefully it becomes instinctive at some point.”

“How long for?” Ed asked. “What if the Centre follows us? Or someone else arrives?”

“I think once the link is well established, we won’t have to maintain physical contact as long as we don’t break it. There might be a distance issue but this is Mike we’re talking about so we probably have more leeway than most.” Greg tried to sound more confident than he felt.

“The back of the neck and the shoulders seem to be favoured spots for linking from what I’ve seen in military Guides.” Sam suggested, so they turned Mike over to lie on his stomach. They positioned themselves around him, Greg beside Mike’s head, Ed on his left side, Sam on his right. Greg undid the tie on the neck of Mike’s gown to bare his shoulders and upper back.

“We'll do this together, okay?” Greg said. As one they reached out and each laid a hand on Mike. Greg's hand on the back of his neck, Sam and Ed’s hands on his shoulders.

***

Spike was trapped in a storm of other people’s emotions. One minute they were far away and distant like the twinkle of a star in the night sky, the next they burned inside him, like he’d materialised inside a supernova.

He couldn’t wake up enough to figure out what was going on around him. Was Toth there? The absence of the shock-like pain in his neck suggested not. Once or twice he thought he’d heard Greg’s voice, from very far away.

There was a sudden shift around him and he felt the weight of three hands on his upper back. He tensed at the touch knowing nothing good could come of it. He heard Greg’s voice again, distant but clear.

“It’s okay Spike, we’re not going to hurt you. Just relax and let us link.”

Spike forced himself to take deep breaths and relax his hands where they were gripping the soft material beneath him. The hands on him were warm, inviting. They reminded him of Leo and the times he’d linked with Spike, back when being a Guide didn’t seem like such a nightmare.

Dropping his head forward a little, Spike let Greg nudge the link between them open. It had been so long that opening up the emotional connection was physically painful. He cried out and tried to escape from it. Three sets of hands moved to steady him, gently pressing on his arms while he scrabbled for purchase on the floor below him. Connections flared to life with all of them and he recognised the presence of Ed and Sam. He desperately tried to shut down the links, not wanting to feel their casual disregard, disgust and resentment.

He was surprised to hear Ed’s voice, in a tone more gentle than the man had ever directed towards him. “Easy Mike, just relax and let us link.”

The connections were stiff and each metaphorical inch they were forced open by his contact with the Sentinels was pure white agony. He cried out again, flexing bruised hands in the Sentinels’ grips, feeling the hands on his shoulders and neck tighten almost imperceptibly. Then the connections opened wider and the pain eased as the flow between them became easier. He was sobbing mutedly by then, the relief overwhelming.

Emotions flooded him from the Sentinels but they were nothing like what he'd expected. There was concern and compassion from all three. And fear, fear that they were hurting him, fear for him and what he’d been through. Their emotions buffered him and wrapped around him but they didn’t harm him. It was all too much for his strained mind and his consciousness slipped gratefully back into darkness.

***

It worked. At least, they thought it had. They had linked and could feel Mike’s emotions through that link. Not each others' though, which was just as well, Greg thought. Not that they were getting much from Mike as it was, given he was out cold once more. But they were reassured by the slowing of his heartbeat and the deep, even breaths from his lungs. This was a restful sleep not the tormented lapsed consciousness of before.

After ten minutes, Greg, carefully keeping his hand on Mike’s neck, stretched out to lie on the floor and let his eyes close. The events of the day were catching up on them. He heard Sam do likewise shortly after. “I’ll keep watch.” Ed said softly.

Greg wasn’t sure how long he’d slept for but Sam and Ed’s quiet voices roused him. He sat up and took in their sleeping Guide. “Did he stir at all?” he asked, already knowing the answer was no as he’d have felt any change through the link. Ed shook his head.

“How long has it been?” he asked.

“Near enough to four hours.” Ed replied.

“Is that long enough?” Sam asked, expression doubtful.

“Normal deep bonding lasts a few minutes to an hour, according to any literature I’ve read, so four hours should be sufficient.” Greg replied. “But I’ll test it out.” He slowly moved his now stiff hand from Mike’s neck and stood up. There was no change to the connection between them. He crossed to the other side of the room and again, felt no change.

“It’s holding steady.” He said after a minute. “I think we can release the physical link.”

“Good.” Sam said with relief, letting go and taking off in the direction of the bathroom. Ed let go as well, stretching before getting to his feet.

“I’ll put some food on. We’re all hungry and I suspect Mike will be awake soon.” Then he turned to regard the Guide lying on the floor. “How about we move him into bed first. The floor isn’t all that comfortable.” Between the two of them they got him tucked up in bed upstairs.

***

Spike woke feeling oddly well rested and warm. His eyes adjusted and he found himself in unfamiliar surroundings, lying on a bed in a sparsely furnished room. He pulled back the covers to see he was wearing the standard issue lab clothes.

The events of the day came back to him slowly. The woman. The bridge. The lab. He groaned. Toth was going to kill him. Or lock him up in the lab permanently. Which begged the question, if not the lab where was he?

He heard footsteps and then a knock on the door. The door opened and Greg poked his head in. “Good, we thought you were awake. How are you feeling?”

Spike sat up. “Okay, I guess.” He shifted a little, uncomfortable under Greg’s gaze.

Greg came in and sat down on the bed next to him. “Leo Matthews says hello by the way.”

Spike couldn’t hide the look of shock on his face. “Hey, Spike, it’s okay.” Greg moved quickly to reassure him.

“No.” Spike blurted out. “You can’t call me that. And you can’t talk to Leo. Dr. Toth will…”

“Toth doesn’t know.”

“He does or he will. He knew we’d linked in the field.” Spike thoughts were racing. He could literally feel the clock counting down his last minutes of freedom. Then he was suddenly aware of something else. A subtle change in his empathic state. He could feel all three Sentinels’ emotions but they were different than before, almost as if they were…

“No, no. Toth said no physical linking.” Spike whispered, looking up at Greg in horror. But he wasn’t physically linked to any of the three yet it felt as if they were. He clamped down hard on the link, slowing it to a trickle but was unable to actually cut it off.

“Spike, it’s okay…” Greg said, trying to placate him, sending soothing emotions through the link between them. Spike was having none of it. What the hell had they done?

“Stop calling me that!” he shouted and scrambled away from Greg to the other side of the bed. He stood, moving back towards the wall. Footsteps came running up the stairs and Ed and Sam entered the room. Three on one, how was that fair?

Spike, breathing heavily, watched all three Sentinels warily.

“Stay away from me.” He spat out, as Greg moved towards him. “Okay Mike, okay.” Greg said, holding his hands out, palms up. “I won’t come any closer.”

“Mike.” Ed spoke calmly. “We’re going to go downstairs and give you some space to calm down. Come and join us when you’re ready.”

He herded Sam and Greg out of the room. Spike heard Greg say something in protest to Ed as he left but could only make out Ed’s response. “You’re not going to reason with him when he’s terrified and cornered like that.”

Then they were gone and Spike was alone. The only light in the room was from a dim bulb. Outside the window there was darkness. It was late. How much time had he lost?

He let himself sink back down onto the bed, trying to make sense of what had changed. His empathic fields had stabilised. He wasn’t see-sawing from nothing to drowning in emotion but was aware of the Sentinels in the background. If he focused in on them, he could bring their emotions to the fore. It was a control he’d never had before without a physical link and that could only mean one thing. But there was no way they’d be that reckless or that stupid, was there?

He needed answers and there was only one place to get them. He climbed down the stairs slowly, hearing the quiet conversation between the Sentinels pause as he approached. The three were sitting downstairs. Spike could smell recently cooked food and see dishes beside the sink. It reminded him how long it had been since he’d last eaten and his stomach growled. He ignored it and went to stand in front of the Sentinels.

“How are you feeling Mike?” Ed asked. Spike ignored the question.

“What did you do?”

“Your empathic field had destabilised. We went to the Guide lab, we found them…” Greg broke off. “They were torturing you.” Sam said.

“We broke you out of there and contacted Leo Matthews. He said there were only two ways to stabilise your fields. Either we bring you back to the lab, back to Toth, or we bonded with you. Returning you to Toth wasn’t an option so we initiated a bond. And it seems to have worked.”

Spike regarded the three men with dismay. “How could you do that? Do you have any idea what you’ve done?”

“We did what we had to.” Ed said firmly, clearly surprised by Spike’s response. Spike felt a push at the bond as they tried to read him, but he clamped down even harder.

“Don’t you understand? A Sentinel-Guide bond is for life. For _life_.”

“Yes, but you’ll be free from Toth, from the Guide lab.” Greg replied, bewildered by Spike’s reaction.

“Yeah,” Spike replied. “But I’ll never be free from you.”

The three Sentinels were stunned.

Greg was the first to recover. “Mike, Leo did warn us, we knew what we were getting into. We also know what Toth has been doing to you since you came online. We couldn’t stand by and let that continue.”

That got Spike’s attention and he turned to look at Greg, opening up the pathway between them, just a sliver. He could feel Greg's horror and dismay, his guilt. Greg, his Sentinel, had seen the truth of what was happening to him and he'd _cared_.

“I know it probably doesn’t seem like it right now, but this is better. It will be better. Please, just give us a chance.” His earnestness came through loud and clear. Ed and Sam were nodding too, expressions earnest and serious.

He opened up the links with them both, needing to feel it for himself. He could sense Ed’s reservation and Sam’s confusion but when it came to him, their feelings echoed Greg’s. Their intentions, misguided as they may have been, were good. They had seen what Dr. Toth was doing to him and they’d cared enough to stop it the only way they knew how.

Greg helped Spike sit down then took a seat next to him. He placed a warm hand on the back of Spike’s neck. “Open your link with me, fully, just for a minute.” Hesitantly, Spike opened up the connection between them, letting his emotions reach Greg as Greg’s reached him.

Greg’s concern was there along with a myriad of other feelings Spike hadn’t the energy to sort through. But the connection showed him Greg’s desire to protect him. It also let him see that he was worth something to Greg, not just as a Guide but as a person. Greg pulled Spike to lean against him and he let himself relax into his Sentinel’s arms. It was enough, in that moment, that someone cared.


	12. Steps

Mike fell asleep leaning against Greg. When he showed no signs of waking, Greg moved to lay him down on the couch. Sam fetched a blanket from the bedroom and covered him. It was nearly five am and dawn wasn’t far off.

“Ed, Sam, go get some sleep. I’ll keep an eye on Spike and watch out for visitors.” Greg said.

The two men wandered upstairs and Greg’s Sentinel hearing picked up on the deep breathing of Sam followed by Ed a few minutes later. Outside the house, there was a cacophony of noise for Sentinel ears but nothing man made.

Greg sat across from Mike and watched the young man as he slept. Time ticked slowly by. The sun rose above the horizon and weak morning light filtered through the windows. He felt the moment Mike returned to consciousness but also sensed the immediate wariness and caution from the Guide. To the untrained, non-Sentinel eye, Mike gave no outward sign of his wakefulness but Greg detected the shift in his breathing and acceleration of his heartbeat.

“Morning Mike.” He said softly, recalling Mike’s aversion to the use of his nickname.

Mike peaked his eyes open, sat up and looked around in confusion. “Not the lab.” He said, picking at the gown he was wearing with distaste. “Not the lab.” Greg echoed, getting to his feet and crossing to the kitchen. “You must be hungry. How about some breakfast?” He knew they had a lot of work to do when Mike’s reaction to his offer was apprehension and wariness. Hunger won out though as he replied. “Some food would be good, thanks.” 

The orderly had said something about them making the Guides fast at the lab. He wondered how far the Centre’s control extended into Guides lives? “How about some toast? And some eggs?”

Mike was looking around the room with cautious interest but hadn’t moved from the couch. “Just the toast, please.”

Greg put on a pot of coffee, and popped a few slices of bread in the toaster. He heard Ed stir and his footsteps upstairs followed by the sound of the shower turning on. 

Mike heard it too and regarded the ceiling apprehensively. “It’s just Ed. He and Sam are upstairs.”

Mike looked at him but didn’t reply. Greg turned his attention to breakfast, looking through their supplies to see if they’d remembered butter. He heard Mike get to his feet behind him and the rustle of the blinds at the window. Distantly, he heard Ed step out of the bathroom upstairs.

“Um, Sergeant Parker.” Mike ventured. “Yeah Mike?” Greg, anticipating a question on their location, decided they’d tackle names another time. “Where’s the bathroom?” He turned to Mike, surprised at the question until he recalled that Mike had been mostly unconscious for over sixteen hours.

“Up the stairs, second door on the left. Ed’s just out of the shower.” Greg replied. He heard the creak of the floorboards as Mike went up and the murmur of voices when he met Ed in the landing. Mostly Ed’s voice and a barely audible reply from Mike.

Ed came downstairs before Mike, taking the steps two at a time.

“I think I preferred snarky, pissed off Mike.” He said by way of greeting.

“I know what you mean” Greg replied, "Though I'm starting to think we haven't seen much of the real Mike at all."

***

Spike used the toilet then washed his hands and face. Bending his neck sent a spark of pain up towards his head and he turned around to see his neck in the mirror. The mark where the monitor had been inserted was much smaller than he’d imagined and surrounded by a circle of reddened skin. It had felt a lot bigger.

He met a sleepy Sam outside the bathroom. “Morning Mike.” the young soldier said, grasping Spike’s shoulder with a warm hand as he walked past him into the bathroom. The connection that still linked them flared briefly at the contact. “Woah.” Sam said, suddenly more alert. “Forgot about that.” He looked Spike up and down critically. “You look like a stiff breeze would knock you down. Did you get some sleep?” The sudden interest in his welfare was a little hard for Spike to rationalise. “Yeah, I slept.” He answered. “Good.” Sam replied with a smile and disappeared into the bathroom.

Spike returned downstairs, finding himself ushered into a seat at the table, a plate of toast and a mug of coffee placed in front of him. Ed was cooking some eggs on the stove. Greg, mug of coffee in hand, sat down across from Spike. 

“After breakfast, you can shower and we’ll organise a change of clothes.” Greg said. Spike nodded in reply, mouth full.

He chewed and swallowed before asking what he thought was the most important question. “Do the Centre know where we are?”

“No.” Ed replied over his shoulder. “We’re a few hours outside Toronto, in the middle of nowhere. It’ll take them some time to track us down.”

“But I don’t think it’ll matter. We’re bonded now.” Greg said.

“That doesn’t put us completely outside their remit.” Spike clarified. “It just transfers their authority over me to you. Bonded Guides are seen as an extension of their Sentinel. They still have some authority over you as Sentinels. But not as much as they might since you’re not military. ”

He wasn't letting his emotions escape through the link, still trying to shield himself from the Sentinels but he could see the men contemplating his words. Neither looked worried and Spike felt reassured.

“Do you think it’s safe to break the link now?” Ed asked. “Will the bond hold?”

“It should be safe enough at this point.” Greg offered, looking to Spike for confirmation. “I guess so.” Spike agreed.

"Then let's give it a try." Ed replied.

***

By that evening, the bond between them was still holding steady. Mike had slept upstairs most of the day, they’d had trouble rousing him for lunch and left him a plate of dinner when he didn’t reappear by himself.

Ed, who’d spent a lot of the day walking around outside the house, watching the boundary, was the first to hear the rumble of a car engine in the distance. “Sam, Greg. We might have company.” He shouted. He pulled their weapons from the gun safe in the trunk of the car and handed them to the two men as they jogged out to meet him.

“Sam, go upstairs and wake Mike. Stay up there with him.” Sam nodded and disappeared into the house.

“Let’s go inside and wait for our visitors.”

The cars that pulled up in the driveway minutes later had Centre insignia. Four people got out, three wearing Centre uniforms. The fourth was Dr. Toth, carrying a small black case. Two of the uniforms hung back while Dr. Toth and the third officer approached the front door.

Greg went to meet them.

“Sergeant Parker.” Dr. Toth said in greeting. “I think we need to talk.”

“Dr. Toth, you had better come in.”

Toth and the officer came in and sat down, Greg sitting opposite them. Ed stood where he could see both the occupants of the room and the officer’s outside.

“Mike is here I assume?” Toth said. 

“He’s upstairs asleep.” Greg replied.

“I’d like to see him. We’ve been very concerned. His empathic fields have destabilised. He needs to be in the Guide lab, where we can take care of him.” Toth sounded like he truly cared about Mike’s wellbeing. 

“We saw what kind of care you were taking of him.” Ed bit out. 

“Field resetting isn’t the most pleasant experience, but it is a necessary evil.” Toth replied, tone soothing.

“Well that’s no longer a problem.” Greg responded, his tone equally soothing. “We established a bond with Mike and his fields have stabilised.”

Anger flashed in Toth’s eyes and his heart rate sped up but none of that made it through to his tone.

“You formed a bond? All three of you?” Toth voiced his disbelief.

“All three of us.” Greg confirmed.

“I’d like to see Mike, confirm this for myself. Otherwise, we’ll have to take him back to the lab with us.”

Greg and Ed shared a look before Ed called out. “Sam, bring Mike downstairs please.”

***

Mike was back in the lab, tied face down on a table. He could hear voices and movement around him but he couldn’t see what they were doing. Hands touched him, disinfectant wiped across his skin. Something sharped pressed against him and he woke with a start.

A hand on his shoulder had him scrambling backwards.

“Mike, it’s okay. It’s just me.” Sam voice spoke next to him. 

Mike wasn’t feeling well. His head pounded with pain and emotions stabbed at him. It took him a moment to understand that there were far too many emotions in his range and they were all heightened.

“What’s going on?” he asked, sitting up. 

“The Centre found us. Toth is downstairs.”

“Dr. Toth is here?” his eyes met Sam’s.

“Ed and the boss are talking with him. Don’t worry about it.”

Mike shifted then closed his eyes as the pain in his head intensified and waves of nausea rolled over him.

“Can I…” he hesitated in asking. “Can I link with you? My empathy is still a little off.”

“Of course, whatever you need.” Sam replied. Spike tentatively reached for Sam’s shoulder and opened up a link between them. It worked immediately, the emotions around him receding, his headache shrinking to a dull ache. 

Ed called upstairs for Sam to bring Spike down. 

Sam helped Spike to his feet and held on to him until he was sure he could support himself. “We can keep the link open okay, but it might look better if we’re not in physical contact.” Spike nodded and released his hold on Sam. He followed the Sentinel downstairs, feeling like he was approaching his execution. 

Toth stood when he saw Mike. He looked him up and down slowly.

“Guide Scarlatti, come here.” He waved Mike over, as he placed his black case on the couch next to him and opened it. Spike approached slowly, aware all three Sentinels were on high alert, Sam holding the link between them open wide.

He couldn’t read anything from Toth with the empathy blocker but he’d borne the brunt of it enough to recognise Toth’s anger. 

“Turn around.” Spike obeyed, feeling his heart racing. He knew Toth wouldn’t do anything to hurt him, not in front of three newly bonded Sentinels, but he couldn’t help the fear when Toth reached for him. Experience had taught him that resisting made things worse so instead he surrendered, letting Toth do what he wanted. 

He hadn’t counted on Sam and the effect the open link would have on him. Spike was suddenly yanked forward and pulled behind Sam, who stood to full height. “Don’t touch him.” The young Sentinel said, voice low and threatening.

Spike clamped a hand on to Sam’s shoulder as Ed and Greg moved to back them up. He knew he needed to calm things down and fast. The two officers who had been outside entered the house on some signal from the third and it didn’t improve the situation.

“Sam, calm down. Toth won’t hurt me, not here, not now.” Spike said, voice pitched low and soothing. He reached out and linked to the other two Sentinels, doing his best to calm all three. 

Toth regarded them with wide eyes and feigned confusion. “I’m just going to place a dermal monitor on Guide Scarlatti to check his empathic fields. It’s nothing to be concerned about.” He said nonchalantly, as if taken completely by surprise by their attitude and the idea that they’d even think he’d hurt Spike.

All three Sentinel’s relaxed slowly, but Spike knew it was more to do with his reaction than Toth's words.

“Guide Scarlatti, now please.” Toth said. Spike moved out from behind Sam and turned again, bending his head forward to expose his neck. He clamped down on the link with the Sentinels, knowing his fear was fuelling their protective reactions.

Toth placed a hand on Spike’s shoulder as he attached the monitor to his skin. His grip tightened to become painful as he saw the reading the monitor displayed. 

“It does appear Guide Scarlatti’s fields have stabilised. I would like to take him back to the lab for further monitoring.” The flash of fear that shot through Spike lasted only moments but he knew the Sentinel’s had felt it. 

“I don’t think separation this early in our bond would be to anyone’s benefit.” Greg said firmly.

“Of course.” Toth replied easily. “Then why don’t we all sit down and discuss the new situation. We can leave the monitor on for now Mike.” He added.

Sam tugged Spike by the arm, moving him away from Toth and sitting with him on the couch. Greg sat on his other side.

Toth sent the other two officers back outside, leaving the third standing near the door. Ed didn’t sit but moved to stand behind the couch where the other three sat and where he still had a view of all three officers.

Toth sat back down and regarded them with interest.

“I can’t say I’m sure you’ve made the wisest choice, but I can understand it. You saw a weakness in your Guide that affected his ability to Guide you and you learned of a way to solve it. But there is quite a significant shift in Sentinel-Guide relationship as a result of bonding and we’ve never had a Guide quite like Mike. It will be a learning curve for all of us.”

He smiled benignly at the four men, offering, with an air of magnanimity. “We have bonded Sentinel-Guide training classes at the Centre that you can attend.”

Mike didn’t like the sound of that. He’d heard about bonded Guide training. While bonding was in general not encouraged in military or police forces, it was more common in the care-orientated rescue and paramedic services as well as more specialist areas like forensics. While Guiding was essentially a form of indentured service, bonded Guiding seemed closer to slavery. He’d heard stories but had never known how much credence to give them. Stories of leashings, of use of physical discipline. Stories of sexual bondings.

“What’s there to learn?” Ed asked, arms folded. 

“How to properly care for your Guide of course. Control of your senses. Discipline. Bonded Guides are prone to more erratic behaviours, they need a firm hand.” Spike shivered at Toth's words and Greg laid a warm hand on his shoulder, sending reassurance through the bond even as he responded to Toth's offer. 

“We’ll consider it of course.” Greg replied.

Toth took a handheld monitor from his case and regarded the readings on the screen. “Guide Scarlatti’s fields are holding steady but I’d like to see how they do without physical contact. It shouldn’t be a problem if you’re bonded.”

“There’s no other way to tell if we’re bonded?” Ed asked sceptically.

“A lumbar puncture will also confirm it. I have the equipment in the car.”

Spike went rigid at his words and all three Sentinel’s picked up on it. Sam rested a hand on Spike's other shoulder and Ed moved a step closer to him.

“If you’re not keen on that option, than perhaps Guide Scarlatti could return upstairs while we finish our conversation. That should be sufficient.”

Spike didn’t need to be told twice, he got up and headed for the stairs. The Sentinels let him go though the link remained open between them. He went into the bedroom and sat down on the bed, hearing the voices continue their conversation downstairs. He couldn’t make out the words and wondered apprehensively what Toth was telling them. He closed his eyes, focusing on keeping his empathy as stable as possible so as not to give Dr. Toth any excuse to return him to the lab. He knew the man was in a dangerous mood and Spike usually came out the worse for it.


	13. Touch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This short chapter was meant to be part of the last chapter which is why I'm posting it so soon after.

Spike heard the sound of a car pull away and had a moment of panic that it was his Sentinels leaving him at the mercy of Dr. Toth, but he reached out and all three were still there. He heard footsteps on the stairs and Greg appeared in the doorway.

“They’re gone. Dr. Toth asked us to leave your monitor on to record your fields over the next few days.” 

“Okay.” Spike nodded in relief.

Greg stepped inside, then hesitated. “Spike.” He looked up at the Sentinel, unsettled by the use of his nickname. 

“Can you to lie down on the bed for me. It’ll just take a minute.”

Spike ran through the myriad of possibilities of what Toth could have told them that would have Greg asking this. None of them seemed good. He sighed and moved to lie on the bed. “Face down, please.” Greg said as he moved towards him. Spike obeyed, resting his head on tense arms. He closed down the links between him and the three Sentinels as he did.

“I’d like to do a tactile sweep.” Greg’s voice was calm and sure as he made his request.

Spike bit his lip and turned his head away. A tactile sweep was something Sentinels did to examine injuries but it could be very intimate, particularly if done while they were linked. He’d only ever experienced them twice before, once with Leo, after an injury to his ankle and that had been a focused sweep. The other had been as part of Sentinel training at the Centre and had been a singularly humiliating experience.

“There isn’t really anything to find, just a few bruises. I could show them to you.”

“I know Spike.” Greg replied, “but I need to learn. Please.” Spike could feel earnestness radiating from Greg. He didn’t get why the older man was so insistent on doing these things. Why couldn’t he be more like Ed and Sam; disinterested in anything beyond the fact that Spike’s presence stabilised their senses. He got the feeling that Greg wasn’t going to let this go any time soon so he reluctantly agreed.

Greg stood over him and reached out his hands. “Just let me know if it gets uncomfortable, okay Spike?”

Spike nodded and declined to tell Greg it was already well past comfortable. The man was so earnest and his presence was oddly calming. 

He placed a hand on Spike’s head first and spoke quietly. “I’m going to link with you.” It was the gentlest of touches against him and Spike forced himself to take slow breaths and allow the connection.

Then Greg ran gentle hands over his body. His touch was light and moved over Spike slowly. When Spike looked over his shoulder at Greg he could see his face was a mask of concentration. Through the link Spike could feel what Greg was trying to do and realised the problem. He couldn’t get a clear reading over Spike’s clothes, the tactile sensations of the material distracting him. 

When he'd had it done before it had been on bare skin and Spike's mind skittered away from remembering being naked and at the mercy of a class of trainee Sentinels. Spike had seen other Sentinels perform it either on bare skin or, with practice, through the lightest layer of clothing. 

He sighed and knelt up, gently nudging Greg’s hands away as he pulled off the lab gown. 

As he lay back down, he was jolted back to his previous visit to the Guide lab, being cold, scared and alone. His link with Greg was so light he’d almost forgotten it was there. He only realised how receptive Greg was when he moved away and returned to lay a blanket over him, covering him from the waist down.

He then proceeded with the sweep again, hands gentle on Spike’s skin. He examined the ligature marks visible around Spike’s wrists and torso then trailed two fingers purposefully down along Spike’s spine until he found the lumbar puncture site. He spent a long time at the spot, examining it. He moved the blanket to cover the top half of Spike’s body and ran impersonal hands down his lower back and his legs. The pants Spike wore were threadbare cotton, lighter than the gown and Greg seemed to have an easier time sensing beneath them. He then nudged Spike to turn over onto his back and moved the blanket to cover his legs again. He easily found the needle marks on Spike’s arms and the continuation of the restraint marks across his chest and abdomen. He found the points where they’d done the nerve and muscle conduction tests and seemed puzzled by them. 

When Spike looked at Greg’s face, he could see he was in full Sentinel mode, completely focused on his task. So much so that when he ghosted hands down along Spike's hips and felt the injury from the skin biopsy, he was pulling down Spike’s pants before Spike had a chance to protest. It was too much like the lab and being exposed under the impersonal hands of the technicians and Spike froze, unable to stop the tears coming to his eyes. Greg’s attention was on his hip and the healing area where the skin biopsy had been taken. Then he seemed to get distracted by something and all of a sudden was brushing a light hand over the burn mark on Spike’s groin. Spike squeezed his eyes tightly closed, the tears running down the sides of his face, and hoped it would end soon.

There was a pause as some of what Spike was feeling seeped through the link between them. Then his pants were gently pulled up, covering him and the blanket laid over him before Greg disappeared from the room. He return a minute later with a set of clothes. Spike found himself helped into a sitting position and bundled into sweatpants before a sweater was pulled carefully on over his head. Then the blanket was wrapped around him before callused hands wiped the tears from his face.

When Spike felt Greg through the link, he recognised the protective mode he was in, similar to how Leo had been when he’d hurt his ankle. There'd be no talking or reasoning with him, no convincing him that Spike was fine and could be left alone. Greg pulled Spike to lean against him, his back to Greg's chest. He could feel his chest rise with each breath and the comfort and peace Greg was sending through the link. He held him for what seemed like a long time, while Spike calmed and his tears dried up.

"I won't force you to talk about it now Spike, but I do want to know what happened in the lab, all of it." Greg's voice was a low rumble against his back. "It's just what they do." he replied softly. "Not to our Guide, it's not." Greg replied and Spike clung to that reassurance like a lifeline.


	14. Plans

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This hopefully heralds a return to the normal posting schedule.

Spike’s stomach growled. He hadn’t eaten since lunch and it was late in the evening. Greg released his hold on him and got them both to their feet. “Come on, we left a plate of dinner for you.”

Spike followed Greg downstairs. Ed was just coming in the front door and Sam was sitting on the couch.

“All quiet out there. I don’t think they’re coming back.” Ed’s words were reassuring even as the skin around the monitor on Spike’s neck itched.

Greg put the plate in the microwave and poured Spike a glass of water. Spike was surprised when Ed sat down with them at the table. “Now that the bond is formed and it’s out in the open, I think it’s time we made some plans.”

Greg was nodding in agreement. "We’ll need to contact Holleran. Very likely we'll have to undergo another requalification in light of our change in status to bonded Sentinels.”

“We might need some time before we do that. The handbook recommends ‘2-4 weeks before returning to normal duties’” Sam said and Spike turned to see him reading from a book with a glossy red cover. He paled a little at the sight of it. The bonded Sentinel/Guide handbook. Dr. Toth must have left them a copy.

“Two to four weeks kicking our heels while we… what? Acclimatise to the bond?” Ed’s voice was dripping with sarcasm. “I don’t feel a significant difference with my sense control. I say we do the same as we did when Mike started with us. A week of training followed by evaluation.”

Spike wanted to argue, knowing that none of them were really sure what the effect of bonding would be, but it was hard to speak up in front of the intimidating Sentinel. Instead he focused on the food in front of him as the others discussed it.

“I’ll talk it over with Holleran. He’s probably going to want to get advice from the Sentinel Guide Authority so we’re probably talking two weeks minimum. Might as well get used to the idea.” Greg replied, trying to soothe things.

“Doesn’t mean I have to like it. So can I get back to my wife and kid anytime soon or do we need to babysit the Guide for another few days?”

Spike didn’t raise his head but his hand froze, fork halfway to his mouth. The temperature in the room dropped.

“Ed…” “Not cool Ed.” Greg and Sam spoke simultaneously. There a moment of silence before Ed sighed loudly.

“You’re right. Mike, I’m sorry, that was uncalled for.” Ed sounded tired but sincere. Spike put down his fork. “It’s okay.” He left the ‘I’m used to it.’ unsaid.

He excused himself to use the bathroom, delaying for as long as he could before returning downstairs. Sam had joined them at the table, still reading the handbook.

“So it says here we’ll need to be in frequent physical contact for the first few weeks in order to maintain a bond and for us to have stable senses.” It took Spike a minute to work out that Sam was directing that at him but it was Greg’s words that told him they’d already talked it over.

“I think we should head back to the city tomorrow. Mike, it’s best if you stay with one of us for the moment. With me tomorrow and we’ll either chose a permanent location for you with one of us or you can alternate nights with all three of us.”

Spike acknowledged Greg’s words, not feeling in a position to argue or point out the fact that he might like a say in his day to day living. He was a bonded Guide now. It changed things.

“It’s late, let’s get some sleep.” Greg said.

“I’ll stay down here and keep watch.” Sam offered. “Thanks Sam. I’ll stay with Spike, Ed you can take the other bedroom.”

“Fine. We leave at first light.” Ed's tone was clipped.

The three of them trudged upstairs.

“You mind if we share the bed?” Greg asked. “The chair is about as comfortable as it looks.”

“I don’t mind.” Spike replied, as he sat down on the side of the bed.

“Umm, Spike?” Spike looked up to find Greg looking faintly embarrassed. “I’d rather be between you and the door, if that’s okay?”

“Sure, okay.” Spike replied, getting up and moving around to the other side of the bed.

“Thanks, sorry it’s just…”

“The protective Sentinel thing. I get it. Burton called it the Blessed Protector instinct.” Spike lay down on the bed, turning to face the window with his back to Greg.

“Are your shields okay? Do you need to link?” The Sentinel's tone was cautious.

“No, they’re okay. Are your senses steady? Things might be a bit wonky for a while during the transition.” Spike turned so he could see Greg’s face.

“They’re alright as far as I can tell. It’s hard to be sure of the effect until we test them under a bit of stress. I do have this… urge to bond, I suppose you’d call it. It’s not too strong just there in the background.”

“I think it’ll get easier once things settle down.” Spike tried to reassure him.

“I’m not worried Spike. We’ll make this work.” Greg lay down next to him and reached to turn out the bedside lamp. Spike turned back on to his side, trying to get his mind to slow down and let him rest.

He woke before dawn to a hand on his shoulder and he sat up, sharp pain shooting throuh his head as he did. He sensed concern from all three Sentinel’s and turned to see Greg half sitting up next to him and Ed standing in the doorway.

“Your heart rate spiked all of a sudden. You okay?” Greg asked.

Spike looked around fuzzily, wincing as their worry bounced off him. “I need to bond, I think.”

At his words, Ed turned around and disappeared and they heard the other bedroom door close.

“Here, lie back down.” Greg’s hands helped him and his hand slipped under Spike’s shirt to rest on the bare skin of his shoulder. “You want to take the lead?” he offered and Spike slowly opened the link between them. It hurt a little but not as bad as it had before.

Greg allowed the link with ease and Spike relaxed into the bond, headache receding. He fell back asleep. When he woke, light was filtering into the room and, remembering Ed’s insistence they leave at first light, he forced himself to sit up. Greg’s hand briefly tightened before letting go and he sat up next to Spike.

“How are your fields?”

“They’re steady.” He reassured.

Ed chose that moment to knock on the door. “Grab some breakfast. We’re out of here in ten.”

Ten minutes later they were in the car, Ed driving, Sam in the passenger seat. Greg sat with Spike in the back.

They dropped Sam off first, then drove to Spike’s apartment so he could pack some stuff, enough for a few days. Then Ed dropped them both at Greg’s house.

He wasn’t surprised to find a family home, though he knew Greg lived alone. While the team hadn’t thought to fill him in on any backstory when he’d arrived and he hadn't spent enough time around them outside of work to learn much about them, he’d gleaned a lot from things said to Donna during her first few weeks. Like the fact that Greg’s wife had left and taken their son and he was a bit touchy where kids were concerned.

“Make yourself at home.” Greg had said with a smile as they walked in the door.

The day passed quickly. Greg spent a lot of it on the phone to Holleran and Ed, back and forth as they discussed what had happened. Spike missed most of what was said as Greg had herded him into the living room and left him watching television. He’d fallen asleep before lunch and been woken by Greg offering food. Greg had joined him some time in the late afternoon and they'd linked, both feeling the need to bond though not as urgent as before. It was easier this time too, almost painless.

“So tomorrow I have to go and meet with Commander Holleran and the Chief and a few people in the Department to iron out a few issues that have come up with the change. You’ll stay with me tonight, Sam will come in the morning and then you’ll go to Ed’s tomorrow evening. Sophie and Clark are staying with Sophie’s mom for a few days during the school holidays.”

“How long will I stay there?” Spike asked.

“Maybe just for the night. I suspect my meeting will go on late which is why I asked Ed to take you. Sam has plans tomorrow evening.”

Greg’s phone rang again and he left the room to take the call. The whole situation made Spike nervous, it felt like everything was happening outside of his control and he felt like a parcel being passed around. A burden.

When Greg came back in he was smiling. “Sam’s on his way over. He’s bringing take out.”

Sam brought pizza and the three men sat in the living room and watched a movie as they ate. Both Sentinels made sure Spike had enough to eat and he resisted the urge to glare at them when they tried to push more food on him.

As the movie came to an end, Spike noticed Sam giving him sideways glances. He reached out his empathy almost automatically as he tried to work out the problem. Sam wanted or needed something. Greg got up, asking Sam if he could hang around for a bit while he went to the store for some groceries.

Spike suspected Greg had guessed the problem and was giving them some space. He waited until the sound of Greg’s car faded before speaking.

“How are you senses holding up?”

Sam looked relieved that Spike had broached the subject. “They’re a little off. Like they’re out of tune. Do you think if we linked that would sort them out?”

“It should. Um, do you feel the need to bond? Kind of like a pulling sensation or an itch?”

Sam looked embarrassed at Spike's question and Spike had to work hard not to let his own embarrassment show. One of them at least had to look like they knew what they were doing and being the Guide, he guessed it was him. The sooner they got over their embarrassment, the better.

“Yeah, something like that. Kind of like I’m a human compass and you’re North. Do you mind?” He asked, reaching a hand towards him and Spike nodded in consent.

Sam paused. “Does it work through clothing? I know the handbook says bare skin.”

The handbook said a lot of things. About the use of bonding platforms, that the Guide should be naked or nearly naked for the bond. 'To reinforce the Guide’s vulnerability and the Sentinel’s duty of protection.' and how to treat a resisting Guide. He wondered if Sam had read the chapter on leashing.

“You can link through clothing, but it’s not as effective. It's fine for superficial linkage.”

Drawing his knees up under him he turned to face Sam. “Working Guides usually link on the shoulder, through clothing. For bonding, it’s usually the back or neck.”

Sam bit his lip, then asked another question entirely.

“Can I see where they did the lumbar puncture?” When Spike eyed him in surprise, Sam added. “The Sarge mentioned it.”

Sighing, Spike turned so he was sitting, legs bent in front of him and facing away from Sam. He lifted his shirt up, baring his back.

Sam didn’t move or speak and Spike began to grow uncomfortable. Then Sam, unconsciously mimicking Greg, trailed two fingers along the centre of Spike’s back until he found the puncture site. He ran fingers over it.

“Did it hurt?”

“Yeah, it hurt.” It really wasn't Spike's favourite topic of conversation.

“Yeah, I’ve heard even with the anaesthetic they’re still painful. I hope they gave you the good stuff.” Spike tensed at his words and Sam’s fingers stilled on his skin.

“No anaesthetic?” he asked, voice dangerously quiet.

“They like to monitor the effect of pain and stress on a Guide’s empathic fields during testing.” Spike said, voice small but trying to stick to the factual.

Sam moved suddenly, off the couch. “Here, lie down.” He guided Spike until he was lying down on his stomach on the couch. He pushed Spike’s shirt up until most of his back was bare. Spike twitched uncomfortably.

“I just want to try something, okay? From the handbook.”

That wasn’t necessarily a good thing, but Spike could feel Sam was headed towards overprotective territory. If he panicked or resisted, he’d likely get motherhenned like he had the previous night with Greg and the older Sentinel would return to find him swaddled in blankets.

“Do you want me to take it off?” he asked, gesturing to his t-shirt now bunched up around his shoulders. “It might be more comfortable for you.” Sam agreed. Spike sat up and pulled it off, wondering how it was that he kept ending up half naked around Sentinels.

When he lay back down, Sam placed a hand on his back just below his left shoulder, which was closest to the back of the couch. Then he slid his hand up, until it rested just above the dermal monitor. As he opened the link between them, he moved and lay his head down over the spot where his hand had just been. As the bond flared between them, Spike realised what Sam was doing. He was anchoring himself to Spike’s heartbeat. Something that could only be done between a bonded Guide and Sentinel. It set a baseline for the Sentinel’s senses. He relaxed once he figured it out and let his breathing slow to match Sam’s.

***

Mike’s back told a story, like a Grimm’s fairy tale, more gritty and bloody than the sanitised versions told to children. Kind of like the reality of Guides versus the Centre’s portrayal of them.

When Mike admitted they hadn’t given him any anaesthetic, Sam resisted the irrational urge to punch something. He didn’t understand why he feelings were so strong. Sure, it was a crap situation but it was also the way things were. Reading the handbook had given him more information and insight than he’d ever thought he’d need but there was something off about it. Skewed. And some parts of it were just… wrong.

He wondered what Mike was expecting when he laid him down on the couch. He could feel how tense the Guide was. He laid his head down over Mike’s back and let his heartbeat fill his ears. At first, it almost overwhelmed him but, through the link, Mike grounded him and the heartbeat became something else, an anchor, a constant. He used it as a baseline for his hearing and felt his senses come under his control. More than control. Mastery.

He felt the moment Mike relaxed beneath him and sent reassurance and gratification through the bond. He opened his eyes and let them focus on the skin of Mike’s back. Something caught his eye and he reached his free hand down, brushing it over the puncture marks.

“The needle entered twice. Here first, then here.” He let his fingers trail over the marks, feeling the broken capillaries, the roughed nerve endings. “It wasn’t the first time, was it?”

“No.” Mike’s reply was barely audible over the heartbeat that filled Sam's ears.

“How many?” Sam fought to keep the anger from his voice.

“Before and after every placement. Sometimes during them.” Mike replied, sounding weary.

“No anaesthetic for any of them?” Sam was starting to form a clearer picture in his mind of Mike’s life as a Guide. It didn’t look pretty. He started to feel ashamed of how he’d acted around Mike since he joined the team. He’d been on Ed’s side, seeing Mike’s job as a cushy one. He just had to show up. But he’d seen fairly quickly that it wasn’t that simple. Had seen Mike throwing up in the bathroom morning after morning. Had seen, though he’d pushed it to the back of his mind, how Mike had looked paler and sicker each week. Ignored the fact that there was something obviously wrong.

Mike had picked up on his feelings because now he was the one sending reassurance through the bond. Sam felt Mike shiver beneath him and goosebumps appeared along Mike's skin. His Guide was cold. 

***

When Greg returned with a bag of groceries, he found Sam and Spike sitting side by side on the couch, Sam’s hand on the back of Spike's neck. They were watching a stand-up comedian, both of them engrossed and as the punchline was delivered, they fell about laughing.

It was nice to see Spike relaxed in their presence. He was especially gratified when Spike, catching sight of him standing by the door, smiled, happy to see him. They may have been baby steps, but they were steps in the right direction nonetheless.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Motherhenned is a word. Definitely.


	15. Learning Curve

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I edited this chapter in detail, then my browser jumped off the page before I saved and I had to edit all over again. I am not happy. Also, angst ahead. It took eight versions of this chapter to get me to this one, and I'm still uncertain about it. Opinions welcome.

Spike spent a quiet morning and afternoon with Greg before Ed came to collect him. Ed seemed grumpy, saying little as they drove. Spike was feeling less and less secure as they pulled into Ed’s driveway. The link between them was closed off. 

Ed got out of the car and strode to the front door. Spike followed, taking his bag from the backseat. He walked in after Ed and shut the door behind him, then stood awkwardly beside it while Ed disappeared into the house. 

Ed returned. “Don’t just stand there, come in and sit down.” Spike followed him into the living room, noting the space looked lived in, items scattered haphazardly; a school book, magazines.

He gingerly sat down as Ed did likewise, but the Sentinel stood up again almost immediately. “I’ll put your bag in the guest room and make some dinner. Turn on the tv if you want. I think there’s a game on.”

He could sense that Ed wanted him miles away so he didn’t offer to help with the cooking, listening to Ed move around the kitchen with practised steps. An hour later Ed came in, handed Spike a plate of food and set a glass of water down on the table beside him. He was gone again before returning with a second plate and a can of beer. He took a seat on the other couch, turned on the tv and within seconds was absorbed in the game. 

Spike regarded his plate with a mix of amusement and melancholy. Plain grilled chicken, boiled potatoes and string beans. There was none of the seasoning he could smell and see on Ed’s plate. Either Toth had told them or Ed had read the Guide handbook and its ridiculous notion that Guides should be sheltered from everything, including strong tastes and colours. And alcohol of course. 

He held back a sigh and ate before the nausea could take hold. He knew, logically, that he should ask Ed to let him link but the man had such a back-off air to him that Spike felt it was worth holding out until he saw Greg the next day. It was only one night.

He offered to do the washing up and was a little surprised when Ed let him. He didn’t have to feign tiredness after even that small exertion and Ed directed him to the guest room, pointing out the bathroom as well.

It took time to fall asleep in the unfamiliar place, the emotions around him kept returning him to wakefulness just as he was on the cusp of sleep. Eventually he did drift off but awoke in the early hours, head throbbing, stomach flip-flopping. He needed to link. Clearly his shields were severely weakened either since the bond or the destabilisation.

He sat up and swung his legs to the edge of the bed, then stood and made his way to the door. He’d heard Ed go to bed hours earlier. He opened the door and peaked out, then walked back to his bed. Then went back out again, going so far as to walk down the corridor, wondering which room was Ed’s. He found the door to Ed’s room and stood outside, poised to knock. But he really didn’t want to face the Sentinel. He returned to his room and walked to stand by the window, leaning this throbbing head against the cool glass. It was a nice neighbourhood; families and kids, thankfully mostly asleep at this time of night. 

He sensed Ed before he heard him and turned to see Ed standing in the doorway. Spike took a few steps towards him from the window.

“What the hell Mike, it’s three am and you’re pacing the floors?” Ed sounded pissed and Mike flinched from the sharp anger as it sliced through his mind like a razor blade.

“Sorry Ed, I didn’t meant to wake you.” He replied.

“Well I’m awake now, want to tell me what’s going on?” Ed, eyes flashing with anger, took two steps into the room. His fury was like a physical punch and Spike backed away.

“Oh for God’s sake Mike, you’re flinching away like I’m …” he paused suddenly and looked at Spike like he was seeing him for the first time, keen Sentinel eyes scanning the Guide. Spike was trembling with the heightened emotion coming from the Sentinel that he couldn’t block out.

“I’m hurting you.” He said, more statement than question. “How is that even…” He ran a tired hand over his face. “That’s your empathy right? Are your fields stable?” 

“They’re stable.” Spike almost stumbled over his words in his haste to confirm it.

Ed’s anger died down, simmering beneath the surface. “But you’re not shielding. You need to bond for that now, right?” Spike nodded.

“Sit down, on the bed.” Ed ordered him like he was talking to a suspect and Spike obeyed, not wanting to piss the tired Sentinel off any more than he already had.

He flinched when Ed’s hand contacted his shoulder, fraught from all the emotion. Ed sighed with frustration and spoke. “Open the link Mike.” Spike was torn between wanting protection against the emotional debris around him and not wanting to feel full force of the Sentinel’s anger. 

“Mike.” Ed’s voice held a warning, hand flexing on Spike’s shoulder, but it just made Spike clamp down harder, stopping the connection Ed was trying to force through. 

“Take a breath Mike, and let me link.” Ed said again and this time, his voice was soft and tired.

Spike gave in and opened up the pathway between them. Ed’s anger rushed through and Spike tried, mentally and physically, to escape it. The Sentinel’s arm caught him, keeping him on the bed. Spike panicked, thoughts of dark Sentinels, discipline and sexual bondings flickering through his head. Ed arms tightened but he must have felt Spike’s panic because his anger drowned out abruptly, like water thrown across a flame. 

“Relax Spike. I’m not trying to hurt you, I’m trying to help. I’m just not doing a very good job of it.” Ed’s anger was gone, replaced by confusion and frustration.

Spike was still panicked, too overwhelmed by Ed’s emotions and unable to take what he needed from the bond. He could feel Ed’s own need to bond with him and the intensity scared him. He tried to escape the Sentinel’s grip again and to his relief Ed let him go. He landed hard on his knees on the floor and scrambled out of the Sentinel’s reach.

Ed stood and Spike cringed back but the Sentinel merely stalked from the room. A minute later he heard Ed’s voice as it carried through the still night and wondered who he was talking to. What if it was Dr. Toth or the Guide centre? What if Ed brought him back to the lab?

It was enough to rouse him and pull him to his feet. He nearly tripped in his haste to get out of the room and follow Ed’s voice. He reached the door to Ed’s room as Ed ended the call, phone in hand. The Sentinel’s eyes were on him as soon as the stepped into view.

“Sentinel, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to resist the bond. I’m ready now.” He wasn’t, but he had to take control of this. If he was too much trouble, if they began to regret the bond, he’d be back in the hands of the Guide Centre while they trialled a chemical dissolution.

Ed, sitting at the end of his bed, didn’t move or respond. Spike took it as agreement and moved to kneel at Ed’s feet. 

***

Ed was struggling to get his emotions under control. Parts of him were warring with one another. There was a part of him that wanted to pin the squirming Guide to the bed and just bond with him but another part of him knew that Mike was expecting that, expecting to be forced into submission, to have no control over his body. And there was yet another part of him that felt disgust at the idea of even needing a physical connection with this Guide.

Mike’s words as he stood in the doorway had been oddly formal and then he was kneeling, body replete with tension, in front of Ed. Greg… Greg would know how to deal with this, what to do, what to say. Everything Ed did and said seemed to make things worse.

Ed’s senses picked up the minute flinch as he laid a hand gently on the back of Mike’s neck. The skin had bruised from the subdermal monitor, he could feel the heat of it under his fingers. He opened the link between them a fraction, enough to buffer Mike a little but holding back the emotions he was learning could cause the young Guide pain.

“Greg’s on his way.” He told Mike.

“Greg’s coming here? Why?” Mike’s voice was soft but wary.

“Because I’m not doing this right, I’m hurting you.” Ed couldn’t keep the frustration from his voice or from coursing through the link and Spike tensed. “And you’re scared of me.” He added, voice quiet.

“I’m sorry, Sentinel. It’s not your fault. It’s mine. I should be guiding you through this. Open the link fully and…” Mike’s words were rushed and Ed could feel the heightened emotions the Guide was trying to suppress. “Mike, just slow it down.”

“No Sentinel, please. I can do this. Please, you don’t need to bring me back to the centre.”

Ed had heard enough. He bodily pulled Mike onto the bed beside him, turning so they were kneeling eye to eye. He kept his hand on Mike’s neck.

“Do you really think I’d send you back there after everything?” The look on Mike’s face was enough to give him his answer and Ed had to look away.

“Yeah, I guess I haven’t exactly made a good impression so far. Alright, how can we do this so that I don’t hurt you.” He looked back in time to catch the expression on Mike's face. Between that and the emotions he could feel through the link, he knew the response before Mike could answer. “We’re past that point huh?” 

“I’m sorry Sentinel.” Mike said.

“Enough of that Sentinel crap Mike, it’s Ed and you’ve nothing to be sorry for. I knew you’d need to bond and I knew you’d be too intimidated to come to me. This is my fault not yours but you’re the one suffering because of it.”

Mike didn’t seem able to respond, exhaustion and pain clear on his face. Delaying was only going to make things worse.

“Okay, let’s do this nice and slowly.”

Ed pushed the link between them, opening it carefully. Mike gave a quiet cry of pain but didn’t pull away. “Deep breaths Spike, that’s it buddy, breath through it.” Mike rocked forward and back, breath hitching as Ed opened the link wider. Ed reached out his other hand to anchor him, feeling the fine tremors racking Mike’s body. He made a final push, opening the link wide between them and Mike went limp. Ed caught him as he pitched forward and gently laid him down on the bed.

The link between them was open and Ed let himself relax down on the bed next to Mike, feeling relief as his senses settled. They'd been driving him crazy all day. He checked Mike over, relieved to see the Guide, though unconscious, was no longer in pain.

His phone rang a few minutes later. It was Greg. “Ed, I’m outside.” “Do you have your key?” “Yeah.” “Let yourself in, we’re upstairs.”

Greg appeared in the doorway a minute later and approached them, reaching out a hand to Mike. “Is he…” “He’s out cold. We bonded but we’d waited too long and it hurt him. He passed out.” 

“You’re still linked?”

“Yeah.”

Greg sat down the the edge of the bed, resting a hand on Spike’s shoulder and looking over at Ed. 

“What happened Eddie?”


	16. Admissions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As you'll have noticed, I'm not managing to update as often as I'd anticipated. Sporadic updates are better than none though, right?

"What happened Eddie?"

“I don’t know.” Ed rubbed a tired hand across his face, struggling to find words to answer Greg’s question. “I made a mess of things, I guess.”

When Greg merely looked at him, he tried to elaborate. “Come on Greg, you know how I’ve felt about the whole coming online thing. About being a Sentinel, needing a Guide. I hate this dependence, knowing that I can’t just rely on myself that I have to rely on…” he looked down at the unconscious Guide lying between them, his hand still pressed against Mike’s neck. 

“And now this bonding thing. I have a wife, a teenager. How am I supposed to explain that I need a physical connection with a total stranger?”

“I know this is going to be an adjustment Eddie. And I know things with you, Sophie and Clark aren’t the best. Have you sat them down and spoken to them? Maybe let them know what’s going on? Buddy, they’re just as in the dark as the rest of us. How are they going to understand unless you talk them through it?”

Ed couldn’t meet Greg’s eyes but heard his tone clearly and knew that Greg was nearing the end of his patience with Ed’s attitude.

“And have you looked at things from Mike’s perspective? He didn’t ask for any of this. He had a promising career ahead of him, a girlfriend, a life. Then he was dragged away from all that, tied down and experimented on, over and over, and handed from Sentinel to Sentinel with no one checking on how he’s been doing. He’s scared, he’s got huge trust issues and I suspect him ending up over the railing on that bridge wasn’t solely because of his encounter with the other Guide. There’s a lot more going on then we can see.”

“You’re right, I’ve been pretty blind to Mike since he got here and I certainly haven’t been easy on him. And now, with the bond, he’s so easy to hurt.” At Greg’s questioning look, he clarified. “His empathy is really sensitive when his shield are low. When it happened earlier, it was like my emotions were hurting him, physically, even though I was across the room. I thought Guides were only supposed to be empathic through close physical contact?”

Before Greg could answer, Ed felt the tug of awareness as Mike woke up.

***

Spike woke to the quiet murmur of a voice beside him. He didn’t move, caution winning out over curiosity. He realised it was fruitless though; he was linked to someone, a warm hand pressed against his neck. Ed. Memories of what had happened came back to him and he sat up.

“How are your shields Mike?” Ed asked. 

“They’re up. I’ll go back to the guest room.” And try harder to be unobtrusive. If he wasn’t a hassle, a burden, they wouldn’t…

As he moved to roll off the bed he hit a solid object and arms grabbed him. Panic, bubbling away under his skin, rose to the surface. “Woah, Mike.” Greg’s voice. He stilled and felt the Sentinel link with him, panic abating at the calm being sent through their bond. “Rough night, huh buddy?”

His heart thudded loudly in his chest as he tried to calm it down. That was an understatement. Four in the morning and he had not one but two Sentinels awake because he couldn’t manage his shields. “I’m sorry Sentinel.” He croaked out.

“What are you apologising for?” Greg’s tone was calm and curious. “A Guide shouldn’t be a burden.” Spike replied.

“Is that why you were sitting outside SRU headquarters your first few weeks, because you didn’t want to be seen as a burden?”

Spike looked up at Greg with wide eyes. How had he known about that?

“Rolie and some of Team Three saw you. They were concerned.” Great, now everyone would be wondering what kind of crazy Guide Team One had been landed with.

“Look Spike, it’s going to be okay. Once things settle down and your empathy goes back to normal, we’ll get back on track.”

Spike couldn’t help the stricken look that crossed his face at Greg’s words and moments later could feel the confusion he’d induced in both Sentinels. 

“Spike, what is it? What did I say?”

They weren’t going to want him once they knew, once they understood, but he couldn’t hide it from them any longer. 

“This is normal.” He admitted finally, voice barely above a whisper.

“No, Mike. We’re talking about the way you’re sensing emotions from people at a distance, the way it’s hurting you.” Ed clarified.

Spike forced himself to close off the links to the two Sentinels as best he could, buffering himself against the anger he was sure would come. He didn't look up, letting his silence answer for him.

“That’s… that’s normal for you?” Ed asked, disbelief colouring his voice.

“Spike, how wide is your empathic range?” Greg asked finally, trying to open the link between them again. Spike resisted.

“It’s the same as my Guide range.” This would be it. The point where they realised what he was, how much of a burden he truly would be as a Guide. Nothing was said but he could feel the slow realisation of both Sentinels.

“You can feel the emotions of everyone in your Guide range?” Ed asked eventually. Spike didn’t answer.

“The call, at the Farm. That’s why you needed a physical link. All those angry and scared people in range.” There was dawning understanding in Greg’s voice but all Spike could think was that now they had proof that he was a liability as a Guide. That he’d lied to them, hid his empathy from them.

He pulled himself together, forced out words from his dry throat. “The Centre can trial a chemical dissolution of the bond. It has a high success rate in the early stages.” And he’d be back right where he started, under Toth’s control.

“We’re not breaking the bond Spike.” Greg replied, dismissing it like it wasn’t the issue.

“Whose decision was it to hide your empathy?” Ed asked. “Who, Mike?” he asked again, more insistent, when Spike didn’t reply. “Dr. Toth didn’t want…” Spike trailed off. 

“I’ll bet he didn’t.” Ed said with such venom that Spike flinched. “Easy Spike.” Greg said, reaching out a hand to Spike but paused when Spike tensed, a worried look ghosting across the Sentinel's face.

“You’re not going back to the lab Spike.” Ed said and Spike turned to look at him, desperately wanting to believe him. “You are not going back to the lab.” Ed said again, cupping his hand against Spike’s neck and opening the link wide between them so Spike could feel the sincerity of his words. 

“I lied to you.” Spike said, disbelieving that they could overlook that so easily.

“Not by choice I’m guessing.” Greg said, his tone questioning. “What did he threaten you with, more time at the lab?” Spike looked up into Greg’s knowing eyes and nodded. 

“Anything else he didn’t want us to know?” Greg prodded and Spike came clean.

“I was at the lab when you called me during Team One’s vacation. Toth was standing beside me when I was talking with you.” Greg didn’t seem surprised.

“Had he planned to bring you back to the lab so soon after starting with us?” Greg asked, but then answered his own question. “He knew about the physical link at the Farm, didn’t he? He was punishing you for breaking the rules.” Spike nodded miserably, finally giving in to Greg’s insistent nudging and opening the link between them.

“Aw, Spike. How come we didn’t see any of this? Three guys with super senses and it’s like we’re wandering around blindfolded.” Regret and guilt tinged Greg's voice.

“It’s how it works with me.” Spike answered, responding to Greg’s keenly felt guilt and trying to soothe it.

“How do you mean?” Ed asked. 

“Once you get past the initial stage, where I learn to stabilise your senses, I fade into the background for most Sentinels. Like a blindspot.”

“That may have been true before, but not now.” Greg pointed out.

Spike looked up, surprised. “You’ve been lit up like a beacon to my senses since we bonded. Ed?”

“Yeah, I’m tracking your heartbeat even when I don’t mean to.” The Sentinel admitted, looking discomfited.

“Sorry, I don’t know why that’s…” Spike responded automatically to Ed’s discomfort, knowing how much he resented the encroachment of the bond. 

“Mike, you don’t need to apologise. This isn’t your fault. This isn’t anyones fault.” Ed said. “Except maybe Toth’s for keeping everyone in the dark.”

Ed took a breath and went a step further, acknowledging the feelings he now knew Spike would be sensing from him. “And my resentment, my discomfort, all those feelings I know you’re picking up on, those are my responsibility to deal with, not yours. I’m the one who needs to come to terms with it, I’m just having a hard time of it. Don’t take them to heart Spike, they’re not about you or anything you’ve done. You’ve been dealt a poor hand from the deck and it hasn’t been in your control to fix it. But it is in ours. So we need to sit down, all four of us, and work this out. Give you some control back over your life. Starting with your name. What do you want us to call you?”

Ed had said so much in such a short space of time that it was hard for Spike to get his head around it all. The sincerity came through clearly from the bond, Ed’s warm hand still pressed to his neck even though his shields didn’t need it. He focused on Ed’s question but wasn’t sure how to answer.

“Spike was your nickname when you were on the job?” He nodded cautiously at Ed’s question. “Leo used it too, when you worked with him?” Another nod, more sure this time.

“Toth took that from you, didn’t he? It wasn’t just a nickname, it was part of your identity.” Greg said. 

“Yeah, my training officer Mac gave it to me.” He replied softly, a smile gracing his face for a moment as he remembered. “If I had a choice, I’d prefer to be called Spike.” He admitted.

“You have a choice.” Ed said and Greg nodded in agreement. “Spike it is. And you can call me Ed. None of that Sentinel stuff okay? Sir is fine if we need to get formal.” 

“Yes, sir.” Spike responded, with a hint of a smile.

“You had better stick to calling me what the rest of the team do during work, outside of that, Greg is fine. And no more Sergeant Parker, okay? No need to call me Sentinel either.”

“Okay.” Spike nodded, and even though it was a small thing, it had significance, being the first time in a long time someone had given him a choice over something. Given him control over an aspect of his life. It was something he had longed for.


	17. Pennies Dropping

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One last chapter before Christmas...

Greg was still struggling to get his brain around what Spike had told them about his empathy. He tried to imagine it, knowing how it felt to sense Spike through the bond and multiplying that a hundred times over.

After they talked, Greg took Spike home with him, knowing the Guide was uncertain around Ed. There was something more to that, some aspect of Ed’s bond with him that made Spike uneasy but Greg wasn’t even sure Spike himself could have articulated it.

The city was beginning to wake as they drove, sitting in companionable silence at first. Greg asked a few more questions about Spike’s empathy, trying to understand it. Spike answered his questions reluctantly and Greg realised that Spike had been so conditioned by Toth where his empathy was concerned that it was extremely difficult for him to talk about it, his answers short and to the point.

When Greg tried to prod him for more detail, Spike said something unexpected. “I could try and show you, if that would help?”

“Show me? How would that work?”

Spike shrugged. “We’d link and I’d share my empathic field with you.”

“Alright, well let’s wait until we’re back at my place. I don’t think I want to be driving when we do this.” Greg held off on asking more questions, sensing Spike reticence.

When they got inside, Greg suggested they go back to bed and catch up on some sleep. Spike agreed, disappearing into the guest room and Greg, senses extended, felt him drift off into an unsettled sleep before getting some rest of his own.

He woke to Spike knocking on his bedroom door. “Sam called, he’s on his way over. I think his senses are bothering him again.”

“Speaking of that.” Greg said, feeling the roughness of his normally soft blanket beneath his hands and the loud thudding sound of next door’s children running around. “Can we bond?”

“Sure.” Spike stepped into the room a little hesitantly and Greg frowned on hearing his heartbeat speed up. “It doesn’t need to be right this second Spike. Let me get up first and make some breakfast. We’ll bond when Sam gets here.”

“Oh, okay.” Spike seemed relieved and that wasn’t good. It was important that he not be afraid of bonding, seeing how vital it was for all four of them. “Go on, I’ll meet you in the kitchen.”

He got up and dressed, heading to the bathroom and then to the kitchen. Spike was already there, a pot of coffee brewing on the counter.

“How’s your empathy holding up?” He asked. “Cosi-cosi.” Spike answered, pulling two cups from the cupboard. “What is that, Italian?” Greg said. “Yeah. So-so.” Spike replied and it took Greg a second to realise Spike had just given him the translation.

“Do you want to share your empathy with me now, if you can?” “It might be better to wait until after we bond.” Before Greg could ask why, he added. “I’ll have more control over it.”

“I’d rather get an idea of what it’s like for you between bonding, when your shields are lower.”

Spike braced his hands on the counter for a moment. “Okay, maybe we could do it before Sam gets here?”

“Let’s get comfortable then.” Greg replied and led the way to the living room, sitting on the couch. Spike sat next to him, letting Greg place a hand on his neck and initiate a link.

At first Greg felt nothing but Spike; his trepidation, his uncertainty but then the Guide focused hard, releasing a tight hold he hand on something and feelings flooded Greg’s mind. It was like a rake of pinpricks across skin, until Spike relaxed his shield more and some of the emotions assaulting him became sharper, some of them burned, others tried to drag him down into the depths of despair. He could pick up the more mundane ones too. Boredom, frustration. And, in amongst them, the positive. Happiness, joy, love.

His head began to throb with the intrusion of so many emotions into his brain. His stomach churned. He was just about to tell Spike he’d had enough but Spike sensed it and shut down the link between them entirely.

“I guess now I know the truth behind your headaches and the throwing up?” Greg said when he’d recovered enough to talk. Spike didn’t answer what was more or less a rhetorical question. “So when I first met you, out in the middle of that field, you were doing what exactly?”

“I was in isolation. They’d keep me there when I wasn’t attached to a Sentinel team or when I wasn’t in the lab. The lab itself is isolated for that reason, the staff wear blockers and the rooms are partially shielded. We get rescue medication if we need it.”

“Did Toth actually give you any choice? About coming to work for us?” That brought an amused smile to Spike’s face, if only for a moment. “I knew Toth had already decided, he wouldn’t have sent you otherwise.”

Greg sat back and sighed. So much of what he’d believed happened over the last few weeks was turning out to be less than true. He thought they’d recruited a Guide to their team when really it had been more like a conscription. Spike’s next words surprised him.

“You were different though. All I usually sensed from the Sentinels Toth sent was authority and dominance. You were so earnest, so focused on being friendly and trustworthy. I didn’t get it at first, until I understood what happened to your team and what having a Guide like me would mean. And then I felt sorry for you.”

“Why is that?” Greg asked.

“Because Toth was giving you false hope. Making you believe I could keep your team together when he knew it was only ever going to be temporary, a sticking plaster across a gaping wound.”

“Well that’s not true any more.” Greg pointed out. A knock on the door interrupted them before Spike could reply. Greg went to let Sam in. “First things first.” He said as they sat down and he explained about Spike’s empathy. Sam rocked back in his seat, looking at Spike in shock.

“You’ve felt every emotion around you? All our calls? Everything the team has felt?” Judging from the look on Sam’s face, he was recalling some of the less charitable thoughts and feelings he’d had since Spike joined them. “How can you stand to look at me, let alone bond with me?” Sam asked.

“What, you think you’re the first person to resent needing a Guide? Being shut out hurt worse. Seeing how welcoming you were of Donna…” Spike trailed off, face going pale. Clearly he hadn’t meant to share that.

Then Spike did something that told Greg a lot about what the real Michaelangelo Scarlatti was like. “What I do remember is you coming to check on me when I was throwing up that first morning I joined you for workout. And you getting between me and Toth when he tried to put the monitor on me.” The monitor was still on his neck and Greg knew it irritated him, had seen him scratch the skin around it with his fingers, but he never voiced a complaint. Spike’s words eased the guilt laden look on Sam’s face and Greg knew that had been Spike's intention, the need of a Guide to soothe and calm.

“Did the anchoring help?” Spike asked, changing the subject. The question didn't make any sense to Greg until Sam answered. “Yeah, my senses were stable all of yesterday. It was just this morning that they’ve started to act up.”

“So nearly thirty-six hours then? That’s longer than I’ve managed. Ed’s gone longer but I think that was more stubbornness on his part than anything else. And it didn’t do Spike any favours.” He turned to the Guide. “How often are you needing to bond before your empathy starts to bother you Spike?”

“Um, about twelve hours.” The flicker of Spike’s gaze to the side told Greg he needed to pry a little.

“Twelve hours of full shielding, no bleed through of emotions?” He asked, watching Spike carefully and drawing a reluctant response from him. “No. Not exactly. Maybe eight hours of full shielding and another four hours that’s tolerable before the nausea really kicks in.”

“So we need to bond with your every eight hours?” Sam asked. “No, that isn’t necessary, I can manage with less.” Spike said.

“But for you to have full shielding, to have your head to yourself, eight is the magic number, yes?” Greg persisted.

“Right now, yeah, but that’s a lot to ask. Over time it should get better, I’ll be able to endure longer breaks between bonding. Or we could ask Dr. Toth for some rescue medication. He’ll probably want me to agree to some testing in exchange but it would reduce the workload.”

Spike's words from yesterday replayed in Greg’s mind. "A Guide shouldn’t be a burden". Spike didn’t trust that they wouldn’t shrug their shoulders and give up if it got too hard, to the point that he’d put himself back into Dr. Toth’s hands if it helped ensure his safety with them in the long term. He was trying in earnest to minimise his needs for that same reason but his choice of words gave away more than he’d intended. Greg was sure Spike had endured a lot in the time since he’d come online.

“We’re not making deals with Toth, Spike. Right now, eight hourly bonding is something we can do and even if that doesn’t become less frequent, we’ll work something out.”

Spike didn’t reply, biting his lip as he thought over Greg’s words. “Ed will be over for lunch and we’ll sort out the specifics.” Greg added in an attempt to reassure their uncertain Guide.

“Why doesn’t Greg try anchoring? We can see if that works as well for him as it did for me?” Sam suggested, moving away from the subject that was making Spike uncomfortable. “If he wants.” Spike shrugged a shoulder, trying to sound nonchalant despite the raised heart rate Greg picked up. Before Greg could ask, Sam explained the concept.

“Spike, are you comfortable with this?” Greg asked gently, remembering his similar reaction to the idea of bonding when they’d talked earlier.

“Sure, if it helps.” He pulled off his shirt without asking and moved to lie flat on the couch. The stark bruises on Spike’s arms and back were a reminder of how much had happened in a short space of time.

Greg followed Sam’s directions, laying his head down over Spike’s heart and opening the link between them as he focused on the Guide’s heartbeat. For a few minutes, the thump-thump of Spike’s heart filled his head, took over his every thought then he senses settled, coming under his control. Sam was right. This was more than simple control. He could fine tune each sense to a degree he didn’t think was possible.

He sat up, running a gentle hand through Spike’s hair. “How are you holding up?” “My shields are steady.” Spike answered. “That’s not what I asked.” Greg said, voice gentle but insistent. “How are _you_ holding up?” The link was open between them, and Greg sent reassurance through the bond, willing the Guide to be honest, confide in them.

“I don’t know. I’m kind of out of my depth. I don’t know if I’m doing this right.” Spike admitted.

“We’re all in the same boat Spike.”

“Yeah, but I’m your Guide.” He muttered.

“And this is uncharted territory; for us, for you, for the Centre.” Spike couldn’t hide his shudder at the mention of the lab.

Sam moved to sit next to Spike, helping him back into his t-shirt before asking silent permission to bond. The three of them sat quietly for a while, Spike relaxing within the protective buffer of his two Sentinels.

The shrill sound of a ringing phone shattered their reverie and Greg rose to answer it. “Sophie? Sophie calm down, tell me what happened? Okay, okay. We’re on our way right now. We’ll be there as soon as we can.”

He turned to Sam and Spike, phone still in his hand. “Ed has zoned. Sophie’s frantic. We need to get over there now.”


	18. Darkness and Light

One minute he and Sophie were talking. Well, she was talking, he was pretending to listen, and then what was a small thing was suddenly an argument. Her voice was loud and grating, the scent of her perfume almost overpowering, not to mention the sounds of the kids next door playing in their backyard. Then Clark started playing the cello loudly upstairs, presumably to try and drown out the sounds of their argument.

In an effort to dial it all down, Ed tried to focus another sense, his vision, on the water glistening from the dishes at the sink. It was such a relief to have all the noise fade into the background, but then the way the light reflecting on the drops of water became so distracting…

***

Greg knocked on the door, Spike and Sam standing behind him. Clark answered, a worried look on his face. “They’re in the kitchen.”

Greg led the way, catching sight of Ed standing stock-still a metre from the sink. Sophie was near him but not touching. “He hasn’t moved or responded. I was afraid to touch him in case it made things worse.”

“What happened?” Greg asked.

Sophie bit her lip, colour suffusing her cheeks as she answered. “We were arguing, he seemed to be wincing from the noise and then he was staring at the sink and he just… stopped.” She looked past Greg, noticing the other two men for the first time. “Hi Sam. And you must be Mike.”

Greg turned in time to see Spike nod in acknowledgement then gesture towards Ed. “Do you mind if I…”

“Oh, no. Please, do whatever you have to do.” Sophie carefully moved out of the way. Spike took two steps towards Ed, then looked around the room, taking in the other two Sentinels as well as Sophie and Clark who were standing near the door. He gave Greg a beseeching look.

“Sophie, do you and Clark mind giving us some space? This might take a bit of time.” Greg said, using a tone of gentle persuasion that had worked many times in the past.

“Of course. Come on Clark, we’ll give them some space.” She echoed Greg’s words as she herded her son from the room.

Spike relaxed a little as they left, the door closing behind them. He circled Ed once before moving to stand behind and slightly to the left, reaching his right hand up and placing it on Ed’s shoulder.

“Will he be able to pull him out of it without skin to skin contact like the handbook says?” Sam whispered to Greg. “Let’s just watch and see.” Greg replied, reminded of how closely Sam had stuck to the manual on negotiations when he started at the SRU. The more uncertain he was of something, the closer he stuck to protocol.

Ed came to all of a sudden and was immediately in motion. He grabbed the hand on his shoulder, pulling Spike forward then twisting his arm behind his back as he pushed him against the counter.

“Ed!” He and Sam both moved to intervene, only pausing when Ed snarled at them. “Back off!”

“Ed, let Spike go, you’re hurting him.” Greg could see the brutal grip he had on the Guide’s arm. Spike, in contrast to him and Sam, hadn’t made a sound. Ed’s only response to Greg’s words was to pull Spike’s arm higher and shove him harder against the counter, pulling a pained cry from the Guide. “Sentinel, please.”

“Guide.” One whispered word fell from Ed’s lips. The hand holding Spike’s arm released him and Ed took a step back. Greg breathed a sigh of relief at the evident de-escalation when Ed suddenly yanked hard, dragging Spike to his knees, the Guide’s hands catching and clinging to the edge of the countertop. Ed knelt behind him.

Greg stepped forward again, intending on intervening but Ed reacted aggressively to the encroachment and he backed off. “What do we do?” Sam asked.

“I don’t know. I’ve never seen this. Do you remember anything from the handbook that might explain this?”

“Sentinel’s can be volatile when they come out of a zone. But it’s momentary.”

“I’ll try talking to him.” Greg said. “See if we can help bring him back to himself.”

He didn’t move closer but positioned himself where Ed could more easily see him while they talked.

“Eddie, it's Greg, I need you to take a step back here, can you do that for me?”

He couldn’t see Spike’s face, Ed had him pinned him against the counter. He didn’t respond to Greg, but his hands moved to Spike’s shirt and then they were pulling it off over his head, before placing the Guide's shaking hands back against the counter.

“You don’t think he’s going to…” Sam whispered.

“No.” Greg said, sounding more certain than he felt. "And we'll stop him if we have to."

***

There was nothing but darkness, on and on. And then, without warning, there was light, sound, taste, smell and the feel of a hand touching his shoulder that hadn’t been there a moment before. He grabbed it, forcing the person in front of him, taking control of the situation. He realised there were others in the room and snarled at them to keep their distance. He’d deal with the intruder.

“Sentinel, please.” That voice, he knew it, knew that heartbeat. One word overwhelmed his mind. “Guide.”

He pulled the Guide to its knees, intent on claiming it, bonding with it. It knew its place, it didn’t resist, though he could feel the acceleration of the Guide's heart beat as he pulled its shirt over its head. He could sense the fear in it. And that wasn’t right.

Matched Guide’s gave themselves freely to Sentinels. This one was compatible. He could feel it. So why the scent of fear? Then he saw them, the marks, the bruises. The Guide had been hurt. Maybe by a Sentinel. He gave the two other Sentinel’s in the room a long look. He could smell their scents on the Guide in front of him. He was theirs too.

Other thoughts began to slowly filter their way into his head, the Sentinel part of him becoming balanced out by the rest. “Spike?” he rested two hands gently on the Guide’s shoulders, wincing when the young man flinched under his hands. “Sorry buddy, I didn’t mean to scare you. You can put your hands down now.”

Spike let go of the counter and turned a little so he could see Ed’s face. He was pale as a ghost, breathing shakily. Ed let go of him and pulled away, using the counter to drag himself to his feet and taking a few steps back.

“Eddie?” Greg approached him cautiously while Sam went to Spike. He heard the soft murmur of their voices but forced himself to focus on Greg and on getting himself back together.

“I don’t know what happened.” He admitted.

“You zoned while you and Sophie were arguing. When you came out of it you weren’t quite yourself. Here, sit down.”

Greg held out a chair and Ed dropped gratefully into it, running a shaking hand across his head. Sam herded an equally shaky Spike into a seat opposite him a moment later.

“So that’s all that was? A bad come-down after a zone-out?” Ed asked. “I almost broke Spike’s arm.”

Greg started to nod but before he could speak, Spike’s voice interrupted. “No, it was more than that, I could feel it. I thought I’d felt it before but I wasn’t sure.” At their confused looks, he hurried to clarify. “I think Ed’s a dark Sentinel.”

***

Three matching looks of bewilderment met his announcement. “What do you mean 'a dark Sentinel'?” Greg asked carefully. Spike shifted in his chair, wincing at the throbbing pain in his arm, regretting it a moment later when he felt the flash of guilt from Ed. He tightened his empathic shield to block it out.

“Richard Burton had a theory that there were levels of Sentinel ability and levels of Guide ability which were dependent on a combination of genetics and environmental cues. He postulated that in modern populations, there would be some combinations of genes that would give rise to Sentinels that had more of the primitive instincts that would have gone hand in hand with the heightened senses in nomadic tribes.”

“More aggression, more volatility?” Greg asked. Deducing from what they just witnessed, Spike assumed.

“No, no. You’re thinking Neanderthal primitive. Think Sentinel primitive. Heightened awareness of surroundings and potential for danger, heightened protective instincts for their family and their Guide. They have a few modern examples that were used as case studies in the Centre. They found a stronger dependency on the bond for emotional stabilisation and the nature of the bond between Guide and Sentinel is different.”

Spike paused for a moment to let them take that in. He could see Greg choosing his next words carefully. “Spike, buddy, if you’re talking about a sexual bond…”

Spike could feel the redness spreading across his cheeks and saw the almost comical horror on Ed’s face. “No, no. Nothing like that.” He was quick to reassure. “I think the Centre’s teaching on that is correct - there’s no such thing as a sexual bond just that occasionally Sentinels and Guides who are compatible from a bonding perspective are also sexually compatible.” He didn’t mention that other, less savoury, personality types used the vulnerability of a Guide to take sexual advantage of them. They didn’t need to hear that now.

“So what do you mean when you say the nature of the bond is different? Different how?”

Spike thought for a moment before trying to explain, unsure how this was going to come across. “The case study they showed us in the Centre was of a bonded pair who had been studied extensively in one of the southern states in the US. They found that they only bonded effectively when the Sentinel’s adrenaline levels were raised. It somehow acted as a precursor to allow the proper expression of bonding proteins. The stuff Toth measures when he does a lumbar puncture. That’s why Ed’s primary response to the need to bond is increased stress, because his body is trying to up his adrenaline levels in preparation. Only neither of us realised that so when he tried to bond he got stressed and angry, and with my empathy all I could sense was the anger and I panicked and then he was trying to suppress it which is why it all just felt… wrong.”

The words tumbled from Spike as the truth revealed itself while he spoke, the confusing night making a lot more sense in the light of day.

“Does that explain why Ed zoned even though you only bonded a few hours ago?” Greg asked. Spike nodded but directed his answer at Ed. “You were trying to calm me down to bond, which probably lowered your adrenaline levels so the bond wouldn’t have been effective for stabilising your senses. I’m sorry Sentinel, I should have realised.”

Ed waved off his apology and was silent for a moment, looking deep in thought. When he spoke, his words were uncertain. “How is nearly breaking your arm a heightened protective instinct for my Guide?”

“You didn’t recognise me when you came out of your zone, did you?” “No, I thought you were an intruder. But I knew Sam and Greg weren’t.”

“But they’d been in your house before and I hadn’t.”

“What about imprinting? It’s in the handbook but we haven't done it yet.” Sam spoke up.

“That.. that could work. The concept of the dark Sentinel is the idea that the Sentinel’s reactions are based more on their senses and less on higher cognitive functions. People you’re around all the time would already be imprinted on your senses; your family, your team. Imprinting is something the Centre encourages newly bonded pairs to do. It should avoid a repeat of this.” he gestured to his arm. “And we need to bond again anyway or you’re at risk of another zone.”

Ed held up a hand to forestall further conversation. “I need a minute to get my head around this and…” he looked up, hearing voices from the next room. “I should probably let Sophie and Clark know I’m okay.”

He stood up and left. Spike listened the murmur of voices from the front room before Greg distracted him. “Spike, how’s your arm?” He moved it experimentally, wincing as pain shot through it. “It’s okay, I think.”

“You know we wouldn’t have let Ed hurt you?” There was gentle insistence in Greg’s tone, a need for Spike to believe him.

“He wasn’t trying to hurt me. Once he figured out I was a Guide, all he wanted to do was bond.” Spike reassured.

There was the sound of the front door closing before Ed reappeared, sitting back down beside them. “Sophie and Clark are gone to do some grocery shopping and have some lunch. It should give us time to sort things out.”

They talked for a little longer about the concept of dark Sentinels before Sam got down to the crux of the issue. “So how did the Sentinel and Guide pair in the case study bond?”

“They tried different things. What worked best for them was sparring. I think the Sentinel had a background in martial arts of some sort. They’d bond afterwards. He's a forensic scientist, they work on crime scenes. Their team has the highest case clearance rate in the state.”

“I’m not going to hurt you in order to bond better.” Ed bit out suddenly, moving away to stare out the window.

“It doesn’t have to be sparring with Spike though, does it? As long as it’s something that gets your adrenaline pumping?” Sam said. “So you and I could do some hand to hand practise, then you and Spike can bond and you can imprint him while you’re bonding.”

“Would that work?” Ed asked. “Probably.” Spike replied, relieved that he could avoid being tossed around like a rag doll before they bonded. "The Sentinel in the US found various things that helped but sparring is what worked best. I don't know if it was because he was sparring with his Guide or if that was just convenience but it's worth a try."

"I agree, I don't think Spike's up for sparring just yet so you can try it with Sam and we'll see how it goes." Greg added. "And we'll do the imprinting too, all three of us, starting with Ed." The Guide and the two Sentinel's nodded in agreement.

“Okay, so how does imprinting actually work?” Ed asked. “The Sentinel uses each of his senses to form a deep understanding of his Guide while they’re linked so that the Guide is instantly recognisable to all the Sentinel’s faculties." Sam recited.

“Did you memorise the whole book?” Greg asked when Sam finished. Sam looked embarrassed for a moment before giving them a wry smile. “Kind of. The parts I thought were important anyway."

"You read the part about the ice-cream, right?" Spike asked. He had all three Sentinel's undivided attention and did his best to sound like he was reciting. "Post-bonding, a Sentinel should supply his Guide with sufficient ice-cream in various flavours."

Greg and Ed were staring at him open mouthed but Sam, quicker on the uptake, grinned back at him. "Chocolate chip is my favourite." Spike added, no longer able to disguise his smile. Greg chuckled but Ed's expression remained serious and Spike worried he'd made a mistake with the joke. Then Ed pulled his phone from his pocket and dialled.

"Hey Soph. No, everything's fine. Can you pick up some ice-cream on the way home. Chocolate chip. Yeah. Thanks Soph. Love you too."

He put the phone down and glared at all three of them, as if daring them to speak. "Who am I to argue with the handbook?" he asked. He held steady eye contact with Spike for a moment before breaking into a grin. He stood. "Come on, let's get this show on the road." The three of them followed him, smiling and joking.


	19. Balance

They moved to the small gym Ed had set up in the back of the garage. The equipment was pushed back against the walls and an exercise mat dragged into the centre of the room. Spike advised them to keep out of Ed’s way once the bonding was underway. If they did this right Ed was likely to be more protective and territorial.

Ed seemed embarrassed at what it was they were doing but resigned all the same. Zoning had a way of putting things into perspective, Spike supposed. He worried a little about what bonding with an adrenaline pumped Sentinel would be like but was almost confident Ed wouldn’t actually hurt him. Greg had promised to stay nearby and intervene if necessary and Spike trusted he’d keep his word.

Ed and Sam started slow, warming up. They traded a few blows, each easily deflecting the other, which was the idea of the exercise. Then Sam made a move and Ed neatly tossed him over and to the floor, before helping him back to his feet. They continued, both of them getting into it. A few blows made contact, Sam shaking off one to his jaw, Ed a kick to his hip. As they circled around, Spike realised that, consciously or not, they were vying over him, over who was standing closest to him. Ed made a final move tossing Sam to the floor again then put an arm across his neck. He saw Greg start and climb to his feet but all Ed said was one word “Enough” and turned his attention to Spike. Sam pulled back and went over to stand near the door beside Greg.

Spike had opened his empathy up and could feel the heightened adrenaline running through Ed and his strong need to bond. He stood and took a few steps towards the Sentinel, showing his willingness to bond. Ed didn’t move, letting Spike come to him. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Sam and Greg leave the garage. He knew they wouldn’t be far and would be listening out for trouble.

He stepped around Ed and onto the mat, standing in the centre, Ed standing uncertainly next to him. “Just follow your instincts, Sentinel. I mean Ed.” He amended when the Sentinel gave him a sharp look. Ed moved so they were standing face to face, reaching a warm hand to clasp Spike’s neck. He leaned forward to press his forehead to Spike’s, taking Spike’s hand and placing it on the back of his own neck. “Link with me, Spike.”

Spike opened the link between them, feeling Ed do the same. They met somewhere in the middle, Ed’s mind like the wind in a storm that calmed as it touched the placid waters of Spike’s mind.

It didn’t hurt like before, the heightened emotion from Ed petering away to nothing as it crossed the threshold into Spike’s mind. He wasn’t sure how long they stayed like that, but eventually Ed moved, pushing away. “Five senses.” He muttered, then his hands were on Spike’s shoulders. Spike tensed without meaning to and Ed let his hands fall. “It’s okay Spike. Just gonna try imprinting. Can you hang on for a bit longer?”

“Sure Ed. I can do that.”

Ed circled him, the action making Spike nervous. Instinct driven didn’t necessarily mean safe.

The Sentinel reached out one hand and tugged lightly at Spike’s t-shirt. “Off.”

Spike hesitated for a moment before pulling his shirt off over his head and tossing it to the side. He’d half expected this, from the little he remembered reading about imprinting. Ed continued to circle slowly, eyes intent on Spike. Cataloguing every inch of his visible skin.

He realised what was coming next, flashing back once again to the Centre and Sentinel training. It must have reverberated through the link between them because Ed paused in front of him, locked eyes with him and sent strong waves of reassurance through the bond. He forced himself to take calming breaths. Ed needed this. His Sentinels needed this. He could do this for them. They’d done so much for him already.

He kicked off his shoes and let his hands fall to his waist, unzipping his pants and pulling them off, followed quickly by his boxers and his socks. The garage was cool and raised goosebumps across his skin. Ed gave a murmur of approval and resumed his circling, eyes methodically cataloguing every inch of Spike’s skin. He could feel Ed’s emotions through the open bond between them, reassured that there was nothing more than the expected possessiveness in his Sentinel observation of his Guide.

Touch was next. Ed reached two hands out to Spike, palms up, and paused. It took Spike a minute to figure it out and it brought a small smile to his face as he did, reaching out and laying his hands in Ed’s palms. The Sentinel’s light touch glided over his palms and fingertips before moving to the back of his hands and up his arms. His hands skimmed lightly across his face and scalp, then repeated, as if Ed was trying to memorise the contours of Spike’s face. Spike closed his eyes and tried to relax and ignore the conditioning, courtesy of Toth, that a Sentinel’s touch was a negative thing.

Ed repeated his tracing of Spike’s face, then ran light impersonal hands in a more cursory manner down his front. He didn’t spare any inch of Spike’s skin, which raised a blush on his cheeks. His embarrassment was quashed when Ed, hand contacting the not quite healed burn mark from the technician in the lab, gave him a look filled with concern and anger on his behalf. The emotions brought tears to Spike’s eyes. He tried to will them away but a few errant drops spilt over, trailing down his cheeks. Ed seemed torn about what to do but continued his mapping of Spike’s skin, before moving behind Spike, starting from his feet and working upwards.

Then he stood in front of Spike again, meeting his gaze head on. He reached out two thumbs, and brushed away the tear tracks, leaning in to whisper in Spike’s ear. “Never again.” Two words of such promise and hope.

The next action almost drew a giggle from Spike, as Ed leaned in close to his neck and scented him. He crouched and repeated it twice more, scenting close to where the more abundant sweat glands were to be found.

Then Spike was helped to his knees by the Sentinel, Ed kneeling next to him on the mat. He seemed to hesitate. “It’s okay Ed. Do what you need to do.” He spoke with a confidence he hadn’t realised he possessed. A gentle hand in his hair tipped his head forward, baring and stretching his neck. Then Ed leaned over and licked a long line across the back of his neck. Spike squirmed a little at the unfamiliar sensation, Ed’s tongue dragging across the still healing wound from the monitor. He was then pushed forward and reached his hands out to balance himself, so Ed could repeat the manoeuvre on his lower back. He then guided Spike to lie flat on his front. The mat was cold beneath his skin, Ed’s hand warm in comparison as it pressed gently to the back of his neck. Then he placed his head over Spike’s upper back, above his heart, anchoring to it as Greg and Sam had done.

He could feel the contentment through the bond as Ed completed the imprinting, fulfilling some long buried Sentinel instinct.

***

Greg had deemed Spike too cold and tired to be subjected to two more attempts at imprinting. He was right, fine shivers wracked Spike’s body as he dressed. It was enough to push the already protective Sentinels over the edge and Spike found himself wrapped in blankets and lying on Ed’s couch. He was still there when Ed’s wife and son returned home, his attempts to get up blocked by Sam, who was sitting on the floor next to the couch.

The door into the hall was open and Spike heard the conversation clearly.

“Is everything okay now? Are you feeling alright?” “I’m fine Soph.” Ed’s voice, soft and reassuring. “We’re still ironing out a few things. It’s normal in the early days of a bond.”

“Well maybe if you told us what to expect, we could help? I didn’t know what to do when you zoned out like that…” Spike had to deliberately stretch his empathy to be able to read her. He felt a little bad doing it but he was Ed’s guide and she was Ed’s wife. Their paths would cross more often than he suspected either of them would like. Concern and confusion. Love. Exasperation. A melting pot of complex emotions.

“I know Sophie. I’m sorry, I’ve been pushing you away in all this and that isn’t fair. Why don’t we sit down and talk, with Spike, if he’s up to it. I’d like you to get to know him.”

“I’d like that too. Is he okay?”

“He wasn’t too well before the bond and it’s taken a lot out of him. He’ll be okay though. Just needs some minding.”

The voices got closer and then they were there. Spike tried to sit up again, relieved when Sam let him.

“Sophie, this is Spike. Spike, my wife Sophie.”

He didn’t point out that they’d already met, given they hadn’t really been introduced.

“It’s nice to finally meet you Spike. I’ve been trying for weeks to get Ed to invite you over for dinner.”

She moved as if to shake his hand and Ed tried to deflect her, leaving her standing uncertainly, hand outstretched. “It’s okay Ed, some Guides don’t do handshakes but I’m not one of them.” He reached out and grasped Sophie’s warm hand in his. “It’s nice to meet you Sophie.”

Sophie’s next move is unexpected. “Could you guys give us a few minutes?” Sam and Ed share a look but acquiesce, joining Greg who’s in the kitchen helping Clark unpack the groceries.

Spike sits up properly, swinging his legs to the floor. He worried this would be the kind of conversation he’d heard of other bonded Guides having with Sentinel spouses. The one where they set out how you’re going to be treated. Spouses were, in part, a reason for some of the more draconian revisions in the handbook that were mostly ignored in practise but sometimes found in the oddest places, like households where the bonded Guides lived in-house instead of independently or in Guide shelters. There was even a subsection detailing how spouses were allowed to discipline Guides in their own home.

Once, when on another military team, the Sentinel Commander had taken him home with him for two weeks of leave. It was still in the early days, before Toth had really figured out his importance and felt Spike being familiarised with the world of Sentinels and Guides was a good thing. The Sentinel had all but ignored him for the stay but had left him at the mercy of his wife, who Spike quickly realised hated Guides with a passion. Looking back on it, he thinks the Sentinel knew and that’s why he brought him. He'd had a problem with Spike's attitude and long-standing disharmony with his wife. And Spike certainly wasn’t the first Guide to enter that house. His physical injuries had long since healed but the memory of those two weeks, despite how hard he’d tried to bury it, was seared on his mind.

Right now, in this very room, events seemed set to repeat themselves. There was a power imbalance and it wasn’t in Spike’s favour.

It seemed stupid being scared of the woman but he couldn’t think of any other reason she’d want to talk to him alone unless she was unhappy with how he’d laid claim to her husband. At the very least, he expected to be on the receiving end of some spiteful words.

She took a seat next to him and he couldn’t help but pull himself inwards, making himself smaller, less of a target. He automatically reeled in his empathy too. A self-protection thing. What you can’t feel won’t hurt you.

“So, your name is Spike?” She asked, sounding uncertain. “Mike, Michaelangelo. Spike is my nickname.” It came out closer to a whisper that he’d intended. He couldn’t seem to lift his head to meet her eyes. It was like there was a weight on him, pushing him down.

“So I wanted to talk to you about Ed and the bond with you and what that means.”

He couldn’t manage a response, words stuck in his throat. “Spike?” She asked again. When she didn’t get an answer her hand pressed against his arm. He flinched at the touch, but didn’t pull away. She did though, moving off the couch, taking slow, measured steps backwards. He knew she was looking at him but he was frozen in place, heart thumping in his chest. And then she was gone. He heard voices in the kitchen a second later.

“Ed, what’s going on? What’s happened to him? He’s terrified.”

There were quick footsteps growing louder then a figure came in to the room. He could hear the conversation continue in the kitchen, too quiet to make out. The person approached slowly. “Spike, buddy, are you okay?”

He didn’t move, limbs frozen in fear. A warm body settled on the couch next to him.

“Link with me Spike.” Greg entreated, his voice soft, before his hand slid along the back of Spike’s neck. He ignored Spike’s flinch, opening up the bond between them. It took seconds for the Sentinel to read his emotional state, then he was pulled to lie against Greg’s chest, warm arms encircling him.

“It’s okay, Spike. I’m not going to let anyone hurt you.”

Spike shivered at the words and Greg pulled the blanket tighter around him. He knew his reactions were triggering Greg’s protective instincts but he couldn’t dampen them down. They stayed like that as the minutes ticked by, the quiet murmur of conversation from the kitchen the only break in the silence.

“I know there are things you haven’t told us yet, things that you’re not ready to trust us with. But when you are, I’ll be here to listen.” Greg says eventually.

There are more footsteps and Ed comes in, dropping to a crouch next to Spike, blue eyes concerned.

“I’m sorry Ed, I didn’t mean…” Spike wasn’t even sure what he was trying to say. He didn’t want to come between Ed and his wife, didn’t want to make an already difficult situation harder for him.

“It’s okay.” Ed reassured, pressing a warm hand on Spike’s knee, opening up the link between them.

“I think we might take Spike back to my place, let him get some rest.” Greg said, silent communication passing between him and Ed.

“Sure.” Ed nodded slowly, agreeing reluctantly. “Is that okay with you Spike?” Spike nodded tiredly.

Sam came in then, carrying two bowls in his hands. “Here you go Spike, Sophie thought you might like this. She said she can’t feed you ice-cream if you haven’t had any lunch.”

It was a bowl of soup. And it smelled delicious. Spike’s stomach growled as he took the proffered bowl. The second bowl was handed to Greg.

“Only eat if you feel like it.” Ed said, sending reassurance through the bond when Spike hesitated. Sam disappeared and returned with more bowls and some homemade bread, handing each of them a piece.

Ed and Sam sat down and tucked in. Spike noticed Ed glance at the door. Sophie was hovering in the doorway. Ed looked at Spike questioningly. Spike nodded and Ed waved Sophie in. She sat next to Ed. Spike could feel that she was uncertain and uncomfortable and was upset with himself that he’d made her feel that way in her own home. There was concern as well, when she looked at him. He wondered what the Sentinels had told her to make her look at him that way.

“The soup is great Sophie, what’s in it?”

Spike was grateful to Greg for starting up a conversation while they ate. He was right, the soup was good, the bread fresh. He had a vague idea that he’d heard that Sophie cooked for a living. A baker or a caterer maybe?

Sophie and Greg chatted, Ed and Sam chiming in and Spike let himself calm down and start to think things through. Sophie wasn’t the Sentinel Commander’s wife. There was no spark of hatred when she looked at him, just concern that was slowly giving way to relief as she watched him eat.

As they finished up the soup, he looked over at Sophie and spoke. “Thanks for the soup. It was delicious.”

“You’re very welcome Spike. It’s the least I could do given what you did for Ed.” She radiated sincerity and appreciation and Spike was struck again by how different she was from the Sentinel Commander’s wife. He wondered would it last or did that kind of bitterness and hatred grow with time?


	20. Ties

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been struggling a bit with this story hence the long gap between chapters but a comment spurred me to get things back on track (Thanks SoupShue! And siennavie and LoveTravels for their comments too).

“Ed, what’s going on? What’s happened to him? He’s terrified.”

Sophie’s abrupt arrival in the kitchen interrupted their conversation.

“I’ll go check on him.” Greg disappeared from the room.

“What happened Sophie?” Ed asked, reaching for her. She looked pale and shaken.

“I don’t know. I was talking to him and he seemed to withdraw into himself. I asked him a question but he didn’t answer and when I touched his arm he flinched. Like he thought I was going to hurt him. What’s going on Ed?”

Ed brushed a hand through Sophie hair as he thought about how to answer her question.

“Soph, I don’t know why he reacted that way to you but we know he’s had a pretty hard time of it. He's spent a lot of time in the Guide research lab where they have a habit of tying him down and experimenting on him. He’s understandably skittish and distrusting as a result but we don’t know the full story yet, he hasn’t really confided in us. He has… trust issues.” Ed said, echoing Greg’s words from the night before.

He could see Sophie try and process everything he’s just told her. “Does he really think I’d hurt him?” It sounded like it pained her to ask the question. “I don’t know Soph, I really hadn’t expected that reaction from him.”

“It’s in the handbook.” Sam, who’d been leaning against the counter listening to their conversation, spoke up.

“What?” Ed asked, turning to him.

“There’s a whole section on Guides within Sentinel marriages. And a subsection on discipline by spouses. When Spike’s in this house, Sophie, as your wife, has a certain amount of jurisdiction over him which he’s not permitted to challenge. And she can discipline him if she feels it’s warranted. Anything from withholding food to leashing or even physical discipline. She’s bound by the general guidelines for disciplining Guides to stop unnecessary or disabling injuries but, by law, she’s well within her rights to hurt him and he has little or no recourse.”

“That’s… that’s insane.” Ed said.

“It’s sickening, is what it is. Just because he happens to be my husband’s Guide gives me the right to…” Sophie trailed off, looking pale.

There was silence between them for a minute.

“I’m gonna go check on Spike. I’ll be back in a minute.” Ed said.

“Have you guys eaten?” Sophie asked Sam as Ed left the room.

“No. We haven’t.”

“I’ll heat some soup.” Still looking a little shocked, she moved around the kitchen.

“It’s not personal, you know. Spike’s been through a lot and I guess he’s used to people taking advantage of his status as a Guide. Plus he hasn’t exactly had the best experience with us so far.”

At Sophie’s questioning look Sam filled her in on what Spike’s few weeks with them had been like and a little about what he’d gone through at the lab.

“I can’t believe in this day and age we allow other human beings to be treated like that. It stops here Sam, he’s not a gadget or a pet or a lab rat, he’s a person. Now, take these in to Spike and Greg.” She handed him two bowls of soup.

“Yes, Mam.” Sam replied as he took them from her and made his way to the door.

***

Soup finished and stomachs full, the three Sentinels and their Guide relaxed in Ed’s living room. Sophie spoke up. “How about some ice-cream? Spike, Ed, do you want to give me a hand dish it up?”

Ed looked from Sophie to Spike before replying.

“Sure, why not.” He got to his feet, holding out a hand to Sophie. He watched Spike slowly clamber to his feet across the room, Greg’s hand reaching out to steady him. Sophie walked to the door and Ed followed, turning to make sure Spike was coming. He was, footsteps heavy, looking like he was approaching his execution.

***

Spike’s stomach went from pleasantly full to heavy and lurching when Sophie spoke. But he couldn’t refuse such an innocuous request and stood, collecting his bowl and Greg’s to bring to the kitchen.

A myriad of thoughts passed through his head as he walked in after them. Would Ed protect him if Sophie tried to hurt him, or would he stand by, not wanting to interfere with his wife’s authority over him?

Following Ed’s example, he carried the soup bowls to the sink and rinsed them, letting Ed take them from him and stack them in the dishwasher.

Sophie took the ice-cream from the freezer and sat it on the counter. “Let’s give it a few minutes to soften before we dish it up.”

She turned, putting her back to the counter and leaned against it. Spike paused, standing awkwardly in the middle of the kitchen. Ed was nearer the door, blocking Spike’s escape route. His eyes flicked to it and back to Sophie.

“So Spike, Sam was telling me about the Handbook. He said there’s a lot in there about Guides and Sentinel's spouses.”

Spike’s eyes flicked to the door again. Greg, he should get to Greg. He’d said he wouldn’t let anyone hurt Spike.

“But I’m not really interested in what the Handbook has to say. I’m more interested in what you have to say about it.”

It took a moment for Spike’s brain to actually process the words and when he did, he looked back at Sophie in confusion.

He spoke haltingly. “This is your house and Ed is your husband. Because by necessity at times the Guide-Sentinel bond takes precedence over the marital bond, the Sentinel Authority made provisions to restore the balance of power by giving spouses authority over their spouse's Guide. When I’m in this house, I follow your rules. And you’re allowed to discipline me. And I… I won’t resist that discipline.” Spike couldn’t keep his voice from shaking. Ed took a step towards him but Sophie held up her hand to stop him.

“Spike, am I the first Sentinel’s spouse you’ve met?” He shook his head.

“So you’ve had first hand experience of this?”

“I… I stayed with a Sentinel whose team I was on while we were on leave. I lived in his house for two weeks.”

“And he was married?”

Spike nodded. “He had a wife.”

“What was she like?” Sophie asked, sounding genuinely curious.

“She… she…” Spike couldn’t describe her. All he remembered was her coldness and her anger. Being locked in that tiny room, no food or water. Doing chores and her punishing him when he didn’t do them right and, in her eyes, he never did anything right.

He started to shake again, fine tremors running through him. He took a step back, losing his balance in the process and reached behind him to the counter to steady himself. But his arm knocked a glass over, sending it spinning to the floor where it cracked into pieces.

The blood drained from his face. “I’m sorry… I didn’t mean…” His breath was coming in fast pants. He struggled to get the air in even as he crouched down to gather up the pieces with shaking hands.

“No Spike, leave them, you’ll cut yourself.” Ed called, as he went to the cupboard, pulling out a dustpan.

Sophie meanwhile had moved closer, crouching beside Spike, who shied away.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to… It was an accident… Please don’t..” He flinched when Sophie reached a hand for him, his eyes looking to Ed and the door, where Greg and Sam now stood, willing them to intervene.

At his words they moved towards him, but Sophie held them off. “Give us a minute here guys. Just one minute Ed, please.” She added when it looked like Ed would protest.

She turned her attention to Spike again, voice gentle. “Ed tells me you can read people’s emotions. I need you to read mine now Spike, okay? It’s important.”

Spike looked from her back to Ed, certain he wouldn’t want Spike to invade her privacy like that. But Ed nodded firmly.

“Here, touch makes it easier right?” She moved her hand towards him slowly, palm out. Spike reached a shaky hand towards her, his sweaty palm meeting hers. The second they touched, before Spike even had a chance to lower his empathic shield, her emotions came through clear and strong, resonating through him. Reassurance, compassion and a fierce protectiveness that took him by surprise.

“I’m not her Spike.” She whispered to him. “I’m _not_ her.”

He felt the first tears fall down his cheeks, then Sophie was holding her arms open, drawing him in and hugging him tightly as he sobbed in her arms.

They stayed like that for a while before Spike was herded back to the living room, given a fistful of tissues, and guided to sit down on the couch. Sophie sat beside him, Sam and Greg sitting across from them. Ed was in the kitchen, cleaning up the broken glass.

A bowl of ice-cream appeared once Spike’s tears had dried up and Sophie handed it to him. “I’ll be back in a minute, okay Spike?” She joined Ed in the kitchen.

Greg took Sophie’s place, warm hand on Spike’s neck, buffering him even though he didn’t need it. His eyes were red and sore from crying but he felt better.

He ate a spoonful of ice-cream, relishing the creamy cold sweetness. How long since he’d last had ice-cream? He couldn’t remember. But there were more important things to think about right then.

“You know, I’d been wondering how come no one had figured out Ed was a dark Sentinel yet. Usually the Centre picks them up days or weeks after they come online.”

“Are you saying it’s because of Sophie?” Greg asked.

“Mm-hmm.” Spike nodded, a spoonful of ice cream in his mouth. He swallowed before speaking. “She’s a latent Guide. She can buffer a little through physical contact but probably only when she’s experiencing strong emotions.”

Greg looked puzzled but before he could speak, Sophie and Ed returned, sitting opposite them. Spike’s fear had eased, whether from the brief link he had had with Sophie and the reassurance that gave him or whether he was just too tired, he didn’t know.

“So, Ed and I have been talking Spike.” Sophie started. “And we’d like to invite you to stay with us for a few days.”

She gave them a moment to digest her request. “Partly because I’m concerned about Ed zoning again and it would be reassuring to have you here for that. But also because it sounds like you’ve been through the mill these past few weeks and could do with some time to rest and some home cooked meals.”

“If you’d feel more comfortable, Greg or Sam could stay too.” Ed added. “What do you think Spike?”

Spike looked around the room in confusion. “Your leaving it up to me?”

“Of course, it’s your decision.”

“But you’re my Sentinels. I go where you want me to go.” He replied, feeling lost.

“That’s not how this is going to work Spike.” Greg spoke up, tone gentle. “We’ll make decisions together but you’ll have a say in all of them. I’m sorry if we haven’t made that clear to you before now. Things have been a bit disjointed since the bond.”

Spike looked from Ed to Sophie. “You want me to stay here?” He asked, unsure if he was missing something.

“If you’d like to. Just for a few days. You can spend some time getting to know us. You’re bonded to Ed, and that’s for life. I’m married to Ed and that’s for life too. We have that in common and I’d like to learn what else we might have in common.”

He reached his empathy out to Sophie as she spoke, feeling her earnestness.

“Can you teach me how to bake the bread we had for lunch?” He asked.

Sophie smiled. “Sure, if you don’t mind teaching me about the Sentinel and Guide stuff.”

“I can do that. But Sam knows the handbook best.” He admitted.

“I don’t want to know what the handbook says Spike. I want to know what _you_ think, what _you’ve_ learned.” She smiled again and he couldn't help but smile back.

“One of you will stay too?” He asked, looking from Sam to Greg. “Sure, if that’s what you want.” Sam answered easily.

“Okay, I’ll stay.” He decided, scooping up another spoonful of ice-cream into his mouth, relishing the burst of sweetness on his tongue and the crunch of chocolate chips under his teeth and marveling at the pleasure he got from something so simple.

***

He glanced through the results on his laptop screen, trawling through the data with a keen eye. A knock on the door interrupted him. "Dr. Toth, do you have a minute to go over the latest reports."

"Of course Judith, come in." He watched as Dr. Judith Richards crossed his office, taking a seat opposite him. 

"Guide Scarlatti's monitor results?" She asked, gesturing to his laptop. He turned the screen around to let her see.

Her eyebrows rose. "Remarkable stability, though the variations in the range are extreme at times."

"Yes, I've noticed that."

"What are his protein expression levels?" She asked the question innocently but Toth knew her well enough to know the question was pointed and she already knew the answer.

"Guide Scarlatti has not been back to the lab since bonding. All I have are the dermal monitor results."

"That's a pity." She commented. "Even a subdermal monitor would give more useful data. The Sentinels won't bring him in?"

"No, they're being stubborn."

"What about a retrieval order?"

"I spoke to the Centre's solicitors. They're not confident we'd be successful given his Sentinels aren't military and it would have to go through a civilian court. Plus, it will put the Sentinel's backs up and any chance of getting them to bring him in voluntarily will be gone." He let his frustration show.

"You need that data. There must be a way to get it. You have contacts in the police force, yes? Maybe now is the time to use them."

"I think you're right Judith. Would you mind if we went over the reports this afternoon.? I have a few calls to make."

As she closed the door after her, he took one last look at the results on his screen before picking up his phone. He would get the information he needed from Mike Scarlatti. One way or another.


	21. Binds

Greg stayed with Spike for his first day at Ed's and Sam stayed for the second. Spike spent a lot of time with Sophie, helping her in the kitchen. She taught him how to bake bread, casserole and banoffee pie. In return, he answered her questions about Sentinels and Guides. Talking to Sophie helped a lot, and the first night, as he sat in the living room with Greg, Ed and Sophie, he told them about his two weeks living with the Sentinel’s wife.

He was sitting next to Greg at the time, and as he talked and the story became clear, Greg reached for him, opening the link between them. He had stopped then, feeling Greg’s horror and anger through the link. “It’s okay Spike, keep talking. We need to know, need to understand.” Greg had said, trying to dampen down his emotions coming through the link.

When he described the morning before they were due to leave, how the Sentinel’s wife had come for him, after leaving him locked in the room for three days without food or water, naked and bruised, Ed had moved too. He took a seat on the floor in front of the couch, guiding Spike’s hand to rest on his neck, giving him control over their linking but needing a connection. Sophie was curled up on the couch opposite, listening with growing horror. 

When he stumbled to the end of the story, mentally and emotionally drained, he found both Sentinels buffering him with reassurance and compassion. He reached out his empathy, sensing the highly protective state his story had pushed the Sentinels into.

He was unsurprised when Greg pulled him to lie against him while Ed left the room and returned with a blanket which he laid over them.

“You don’t have scars.” Greg commented.

“The rules don’t allow us to be permanently marked from being disciplined. His wife was very careful to stay within them.”

He could tell his matter of fact way of talking about it upset his Sentinels. “I’m sorry. It’s just how it is. It doesn’t seem so shocking after a while.”

“Did the Sentinels you worked with ever discipline you?” Ed asked, returning to his seat on the floor.

“Not often. There were a few who… liked to think I had an attitude problem. I kinda think the problem was mostly theirs though, you know?”

“I never got the impression you were worried about _us_ disciplining you.” Greg said. Spike imagined he was recalling the few times he had butted heads with Ed.

“You guys hadn’t been Sentinels long. You seemed kinda clueless. So I thought you didn’t know you could." He smiled. "It didn’t take long to figure out that you probably wouldn’t have, even if you had known.”

“Not probably wouldn’t. Definitely wouldn’t. Ever.” Ed said. “No matter how much of a pain in the ass you’re being.” He turned to look at Spike as he spoke, a grin on his face. Spike found himself laughing at the unexpected joke.

***

The second night he cooked dinner for Sophie, Ed, Clark and Sam. He made an Italian dish his mother had taught him to make and they ate around the dinner table. It was relaxed, almost cosy.

“So what’s it like being a Guide?” Clark asked out of the blue. He’d stayed over at a friend’s house the previous night so Spike hadn’t had much interaction with him. 

He was taken aback at the question and looked to Ed and Sophie. “It’s okay Spike. We’re rather you told him the truth than recite the propaganda the Sentinel Guide Commission sends out to the High Schools.” Ed said, Sophie nodding in agreement.

“It’s kinda like being a teenager I suppose. Someone always telling you where to go, what do to. Not having control over your life, your future. Except that when you’re a teenager, you know it’s not forever but when you’re a Guide, it’s for life.”

Clark didn’t seem fazed by his answer. “What did you want to be before you came online as a Guide?”

“Well I went though a phase when I was a teenager where I wanted to be a hacker. But what I really wanted to be was a bomb disposal technician, pretty much even since I was old enough to realise there was such a thing. I was doing some training for that when I came online.”

“Cool. Did you get to defuse any bombs? Were you any good at it?”

“Didn’t really get far enough to figure that out. Guess I’ll never know.”

“But you’re good with computers?” Clark seemed eager to discuss the topic.

“Depends on what you mean by a computer. What do you have?”

“Just an ancient pc. And a playstation.”

Spike perked up at that. “What games do you play?”

He caught Clark’s quick glance at his parents and tried not to smile. Some was playing Grand Theft Auto and didn’t want his parents to know.

“Halo.” Clark gave the safe answer. “You play?” He seemed keen to hear Spike’s answer.

“Sure, not for a while though.”

“We could play after dinner…” Clark's enthusiasm was infectious.

“Only if your homework’s done, Clark.” His mother said.

“It’s done, Mom.” Clark replied, with a roll of his eyes

***

Ed stood listening at the living room door as Clark set up the console.

“So what kind of a name is Spike?”

“It’s a nickname.”

“What’s your actual name.”

He could hear the sigh in Spike’s voice as he replied.

“Michaelangelo. My family is Italian.” He added as Clark snorted with laughter.

“Come on, like you can talk Clark Kent.” Spike teased.

“Hey!” came his son’s goodnatured protest.

There was silence for a minute.

“Spike, can I ask you something?” The tone of the conversation became serious.

“Sure, ask away.”

“If my Dad’s a Sentinel, does that mean I might be one? Or a Guide? My Mom had an uncle who was a Guide. And I know it runs in families.”

There was fear in Clark’s voice when he asked and Ed realised that Clark had probably picked up more about what was going on than they’d imagined. Enough to be genuinely scared of the prospect of being a Guide or even a Sentinel.

“It tends to skip a generation or two so it’s not likely. You might be latent but most people who are latent never come online.” Spike reassured him confidently. “And it’s not the end of the world. Sentinel’s have some great career opportunities. And Guide’s… it’s not all doom and gloom. There are Sentinel’s out there, people like your Dad and his team, that make life as a Guide bearable.”

Ed was grateful to Spike for reassuring Clark though it hurt to hear that Spike’s expectations were so low. But he knew that wasn’t something that would change overnight. They had a lot of damage to undo, a lot of trust to build. He was determined Spike would have a life that wasn’t just bearable but fulfilling. He was certain it was possible, somehow.

***

Greg called Ed that evening.

“Commander Holleran wants us to come in for a meeting tomorrow. All three of us. To discuss the impact of our being bonded Sentinels on the SRU and the team.”

“Sure, we’ll bring Spike along, he can keep Winnie company.”

“Terrence Martin is going to be there. He’s got a real dislike of Guides and he’s vocal about it. Commander Holleran recommended we not bring Spike with us and I have to agree, I don’t want to subject Spike to that, even if his empathic shields are up.”

“Alright, Sophie’s here all day tomorrow. She won’t mind keeping him company. He might like a bit of time to himself anyway, not having a couple of Sentinel’s underfoot all the time.”

Greg chuckled at Ed’s words. “I’d say you’re right. I imagine he misses having time to himself, without someone constantly monitoring his heartbeat.”

***

Ed and Sam left early, saying goodbye to Spike and Sophie. Sophie’s plan for the morning was housework and baking so Spike volunteered himself as a spare pair of hands. He was kneading bread dough when the doorbell rang, Sophie going to answer it.

He idly stretched his empathy out after her, tensing when he picked up on the emotions of the people at the door. Authority. Aggression.

He wiped his hands on a cloth and took two steps towards the door, listening hard.

“M'am, we have a warrant. You need to let us pass.”

“I need to do no such thing. You’re not police. This is my house. My husband is the Sentinel in the family, if there’s a problem, you need to deal directly with him.” Hearing the concern and feeling some distress from Sophie, he moved into the hall. There were three Guards in Guide Centre uniforms standing at the door. One of them caught sight of him. The emotions emanating from him were enough to up the pace of Spike’s already racing heart.

“Guide Scarlatti.” He pushed past Sophie and Spike caught sight of the leash in his hand. Panic flooded him and he ran, hearing shouts and footsteps behind him.

He ran through the kitchen and out the back door, hearing the footsteps gaining on him.

“Guide Scarlatti. Stop right where you are or I’ll be forced to taser you.”

He turned to see two of the Guards behind him, one holding a taser in his hand, the other a leash. A third Guard stood outside the back door. Sophie appeared behind him, but the Guard pushed her back.

“M’am, step back inside the house. Don’t interfere. We have an interim care order permitting us to to take this Guide into custody.”

“Spike is my husband’s Guide, you have no right…”

“The Centre’s authority supercedes the Sentinel’s in these cases. There is evidence this Guide is being mistreated, we are taking him into custody for his own safety.”

Spike could feel the danger from the three Guards. He didn’t want to put Sophie in harm’s way. “It’s okay Sophie. I’ll go with them. Call Ed or Greg. Please.”

“Mistreated? Does he look mistreated?” Sophie continued to argue with the Guard blocking her path as the other two Guards closed in on Spike.

“M’am, if you continue to interfere, you’ll be arrested.”

“On your knees, Guide.” The words drew his attention back to the Guards surrounding him.

Sighing, Spike dropped to his knees. The Guard with the leash circled around behind him as the one with the taser tucked it back into his belt. Spike felt the first loop of the leash drop over his head and encircle his neck loosely. His hands were next, each wrist encircled individually before the leash was wrapped once around his waist then his ankles were secured. The section of leash between his wrists that tethered to the section wrapped around his waist was tightened, pulling his wrists together and securing them in the small of his back.

The Guard in front was pulling another leash from his belt and Spike eyed him in confusion. There was an excited, nervous anticipation radiating from both of them, warning Spike of incoming danger he couldn’t avoid.

The Guard looped the leash in his hand as Spike watched. Spike had only a millisecond of warning before he lashed out, the end of the leash hitting Spike across the face, rocking him backwards. His lip split, warm blood spilling over his chin.

Her heard Sophie’s cry of alarm and surprise but was distracted, firstly by the pain and then by the leash coming down again, this time across his left shoulder. He cried out and hunched forward, unable to move far with the leash.

"Now he looks mistreated." The Guard said, smiling down at him before moving around him and out of sight. The one behind him kicked out, boot hitting Spike in the centre of his back, knocking him face first into the grass. The leash came down again, on his back this time. He couldn’t even cry out, breath knocked out of him and mouth full of grass and dirt. A second blow landed across his legs.

“That’ll do Marks. Let’s get him into the van and get the hell out of here.”

The words were muffled to Spike’s ears. He was pulled to his feet roughly by hand on his arms. There was enough leeway in the leash that tethered his ankles together that he could walk, though it restrained the length of his stride. The Guards hurried him across the grass, forcing him to take small quick steps to stop himself from tripping. When his foot caught on the edge of the patio, they paid no heed, simply pulling him along until he managed to get his feet under him again.

They dragged him into the kitchen, passed a crying, distraught Sophie, who was trapped against the wall by the presence of an imposing Guard. Spike caught sight of the metal handcuffs encircling her wrists.

“Please, this is a mistake. Let me call my husband.” She begged.

“M’am, you’re under arrest for interfering in a lawful removal of a Guide. You’ll be handed over to police custody.” The Guard replied, unmoved by her distress.

“Where are you taking him?” were the last words of Sophie’s Spike heard as he was dragged through the hall and out the front door.

There was a Guide Centre van and an unmarked car outside the driveway. Another Guard stood watch beside the car.

“Make sure the wife is taken in. We don’t want the alarm raised too soon.” One of the Guards holding Spike said. The Guard at the car nodded, arms folded. There was disgust in his eyes when he looked at Spike.

“All this trouble for one of _them_.” He muttered.

Spike was thrown face first into the van, lying on the floor. Hands reached down, tightening the leash tethering his ankles so he couldn’t kick out and shortening the leash between his waist and neck. It meant if he struggled at all, it pulled at the loop around his neck, choking him.

He forced himself to lie still as the doors were closed, one Guard taking a seat on the bench beside him, the other getting in the driver’s seat in front.

“Let’s get out of here.” The driver said, as they pulled away from the kerb.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All credit to English Rose/Susan Foster for the concept of leashing as introduced in her Sentinel GDP AU series, which, as previously mentioned, was the inspiration for this story.


	22. Tears

The meeting was long, boring and unnecessary. There were circular arguments around policy that Martin kept instigating and continuing, drawing out every nuance and point he could. Even Commander Holleran was getting frustrated.

Winnie poking her head in the door was a welcome distraction though the worried look on her face was not. She didn’t say anything, just jerked her head in the direction of the hall. 

“Gentleman, I think we could all do with a few minutes break.” Greg said, steadfastly ignoring Martin’s protest as he stood. Ed and Sam followed him out.

“What’s up Winnie?”

“I just got a call from the desk clerk in Ed's local station. Courtesy call.”

“Clark?” Ed asked, trying to figure out what his son could possibly have done.

“No, Sophie. Arrested for interfering with the lawful removal of a Guide by Centre Officers.”

Shock was followed by anger then, even more swiftly, by action.

***

The ride was uncomfortable, Spike unable to brace himself and stop himself sliding around in the back of the van. The Guard with him eventually stuck his foot out and clamped down on the small of Spike’s back, weight of his leg pinning him painfully in place.

It was with relief that the van came to a stop, the weight on his back releasing, the leash loosening a little. The relief was tempered by being pulled to his feet by his arms and frog marched from the van towards a familiar building.

He was met in reception by another familiarity. Dr. Toth.

“Guide Scarlatti. I’m so relieved to see you safe.” He lacked sincerity and Spike could see the undercurrent of anger that meant he was in for a rough ride.

Toth turned and spoke to the Guards. “Get him cleaned up and photographed, then bring him to the procedure room.”

***

The two Guards escorted him to a bathroom with an open shower.

The leash was removed.

“Strip, Guide.”

Spike obeyed silently, not wanting to antagonise his captors. All he had to do was hold out until his Sentinels got there. Despite that knowledge, a familiar sense of humiliation took hold as he stacked his clothes in a neat pile beside him.

The Guards circled him. “That’s gonna scar.” One said, pointing to where the leash had sliced open a cut across his shoulder. “These ones too I suspect.” He added from somewhere behind Spike. Spike held himself still, not wanting to provoke them by moving.

The other Guard peered long and hard at his face. “This one’ll heal. Toth will be pleased, he doesn’t like their faces marred.”

“Is it enough do you think?” The one behind him asked. Spike wasn't sure what he meant. Enough for what?

“We’ll let the good doctor be the judge of that. Clean the blood off his face but leave the dirt. It paints a good picture.”

One of them grabbed a towel and wet it, then reached and caught hold of his chin and carefully dabbed off the blood. The wounds on his shoulder, back and legs were similarly cleaned, removing any trace of fresh blood.

Then the camera appeared and picture after picture was taken, hands pushing and roughly positioning him.

“Get him in the shower. I’ll show these to Dr.Toth.”

The water was turned on and he was thrust unceremoniously under it. “Clean up, Guide. You’ve a busy day ahead of you.”

The Guard, arms folded, watched him with a smirk.

***

There were more pictures taken before he was dressed in the customary gown and trousers and brought to the procedure room.

Toth was already there along with Dr. Richards and a nurse.

“Guide Scarlatti, it’s good to have you back. We’re going to start with some routine tests. You’ll be familiar with the procedure.”

“My Sentinels don’t want me to undergo any tests without their permission.”

Toth’s eyes flashed dangerously but as always the empathy blocker hid what he was feeling from Spike.

“With your Sentinel’s permission, we have an interim care order, which means I have responsibility for your care at present. Lie down on the table, Guide Scarlatti.” That had to be a lie, Spike knew. His Sentinels would never have given permission for this.

When Spike hesitated, the Guards escorting him pushed him forward, lifting him bodily by arms and legs and onto the metal table.

“Get that gown off him.” Toth snapped.

They did, the cold air of the room assaulting his skin, the rough treatment aggravating the welts from the leash.

He was tied down like he had been many times before, wrists secured to the top corner of the table, knees bent and spine bowed as straps were tightened across his body. He struggled, knowing what was coming. They couldn’t do this to him, not now. He was a bonded Guide, he had Sentinels, three of them. Never again. They’d promised him.

“Nurse, prepare a muscle relaxant. He’s going to injure himself.” Toth’s hand gripped his hair suddenly. “And we wouldn’t want that. Though I want you fully conscious for this. I want you to feel every millimetre of what’s done to you. You need to remember your place Mike.” He let go. A cursory swipe of an alcohol wipe across Spike's upper arm was followed by the pinch of a needle. Involuntarily Spike’s muscles relaxed.

“I don’t know how you twisted and manipulated those Sentinels into doing what they did. But I have no intention of letting you get away with it. I have great plans for you Guide Scarlatti.”

The dermal monitor on the back of his neck was peeled off and he felt the wet coldness of disinfectant as it was wiped across his skin. 

“You remember the subdermal field monitor, don’t you?” Spike’s eyes widened with fear, but he couldn’t manage more than a token struggle. Like before, the monitor was punched through his skin in one motion, forcing a yell from his throat.

“There, now we’re getting excellent readings. Your fields have been showing remarkable stability these last few days, Mike. Impressive considering how clumsy and untrained those Sentinels are.”

Sharp jabs of pain radiated from the puncture sight.

“Now, Dr. Richards will proceed with the lumbar puncture. We’ve been anxious to see any changes in your protein expression.”

Helpless tears began to slide down Spike’s face as they moved around him.

***

They were on the road immediately, Ed calling the station where Sophie was being held while Greg tried to get through to Toth and the Guide centre. Sam drove, talking to Winnie through the headset as she tried to get hold of Leo Matthews.

Ed was out of the car before it came to a stop and took the stairs into the station two at a time. Greg followed. Sam stayed in the car.

“Sophie Lane?” Ed asked the desk clerk impatiently, as he stretched his senses out to hear her heartbeat. He could feel the protective instinct welling up inside him, his need to get to Sophie and ensure she was okay.

“Ed,” a voice called from his left. “She’s this way.” Ed turned to see Detective Dave Norris waving him over. He followed. “Dave, how is she?”

“She’s shook up, but she’s fine. One of the officers who brought her in clocked something wasn’t quite right and brought it to my attention. I intervened. Those Guide Centre Guards have a reputation for overstepping their bounds.”

He opened a door and stepped back to let Ed enter.

Sophie was sitting at a table, tissue clutched in hands that lay in her lap. An untouched cup of tea sat on the table in front of her. She looked up as the door opened, fear giving way to relief in her reddened eyes when she saw him.

Ed strode towards her, falling to his knees beside her chair, reaching for her and pulling her close.

“Ed. Thank God. They took Spike, I tried to stop them but the bastards handcuffed me.” She looked up as Greg followed them into the room.

“They said something about a care order and Spike having been mistreated. But they hurt him, two of them. He was bleeding when they dragged him out, leashed like an animal.”

Ed pushed her sleeves up, taking in the red marks on her wrists, anger flashing in his eyes. He cupped her face, searching her eyes. “Did they hurt you?” She shook her head. “They weren’t exactly gentle, but they didn’t hurt me.” He nodded, relief flooding him.

He turned to Dave. “Can we take her home?”

“Sure, I’ve cleared it with the Captain. They’ll be a report and some paperwork, but we can sort it later.”

Ed stood, reaching to help Sophie up, wrapping an arm around her.

“Come on, let’s get out of here.”

Greg led the way and a minute later they were back in the car and on the road.

“We should drop Sophie home.” Greg suggested.

“No, we’ve lost enough time already. We need to find Spike.” Sophie insisted. “Greg, you should have seen him, he was terrified.”

“Leo says they’d have taken him to the Guide Centre but if they have an interim care order, it can only be challenged through the courts. He says we need to get ourselves a lawyer and file for restoration of custody. But that takes time so he recommends we apply for an interim Guardian to care for Spike. We can nominate a third party. Like maybe Wordy or Commander Holleran.”

“Let’s try both approaches, the legal and the direct. We’ll need to split up.” Greg said.

“Head to our house, we can take Sophie’s car.”

“I’m coming with you.” Sophie insisted. “Don’t worry.” Ed said, cupping her cheek. “I’m not letting you out of my sight.”

***

It took some convincing for Greg to get Ed to agree that he and Sophie would pursue the legal route and let Sam and Greg go the the Guide Centre.

“We promised him he’d never go back there. I promised him.” Ed ground out.

“Leo says the legal approach is the only one that’s going to work in this instance. We’re going to the Centre on a hope and a prayer that they’ll let us a least see Spike and we need to keep cool heads. You’re already in full blown protective mode Ed, I don’t think close proximity to the Centre is going to help that.”

Ed conceded, he and Sophie getting out of the car when Sam pulled up in front of their house. Leo Matthews had given them the name of a lawyer well versed in Sentinel and Guide laws, and he’d agreed to meet with them at the courthouse and get the ball rolling.

***

They’d taken blood, saliva and spinal fluid before Spike’s bonds were loosened a little and his body straightened into a slightly less constricting position.

Toth had stayed, watching everything that Spike was subjected to. Finally, a nurse placed a tourniquet around his arm and a needle was inserted to place a cannula in his hand.

He was surprised when Toth himself connected the IV line to the cannula in his hand. 

“Before we start, I want to show you this. It’s a form giving permission for your bond to be chemically dissolved. Signed by all three of your Sentinels just this morning. Didn’t you wonder why they left you alone, went to a meeting without you? They realised they’d make a mistake and were glad of the opportunity to undo it.

He held the piece of paper up, three individual signatures clearly visible. Spike recognised Greg's clear hand, Sam’s precise penmanship and Ed’s sprawling writing on the page in front of him.

“It’s a trick. They wouldn’t.” He choked out. It was maddening to be unable to get emotional feedback from Toth or the other staff which he knew would lay bare the deception.

“They would and they did. Once they realised what kind of a Guide you are, how emotionally manipulative an empath can be, they were only too keen to break any connection to you.”

He showed Spike the bag of fluid hanging next to the bed.

“This is a chemical compound that dissolves a Guide’s bond to a Sentinel. It’s effective more than 95% of the time if given within 10 days of the formation of the bond.”

He heard Toth activate the machine that started the drip and watched as the liquid made its slow way through the tube towards his hand.

“Now, get some rest Guide Scarlatti, you're going to need it. We have a lot of work to catch up on.”


	23. Walled

They were stonewalled at the Centre. They’d clearly been expected. There were many more Guards at the entrance than usual. Sam and Greg were only permitted as far as the reception area.

The polite receptionist listened to their concerns and contacted Henry Tobin, the lab director. At length, he came to greet them. Before Greg could speak, he held up a hand.

“Sentinels. I’m sorry. There’s an Interim Care Order in place. You can’t be here. If you don’t leave immediately, I’ll have you escorted from the building and you’ll be arrested.”

“We just want to know Guide Scarlatti is okay.” Greg said, keeping his tone calm and holding out a hand to restrain Sam. Both he and Sam had felt some distress from Spike through the bond which worsened as they neared the building, fuelling the fear that already gripped them.

“Guide Scarlatti is in good hands gentleman. I’m afraid I can’t say any more. Please. You need to leave now.” He held his hands up in an attempt to placate them before gesturing to the door.

Greg nodded, putting a hand on Sam’s shoulder and guiding him forcefully towards the door. "I know Sam, I know, but we need to handle this the right way."

He called Ed as they walked back to the car, putting the phone on loudspeaker. “They knew we were coming. Upped security, threatened to arrest us if we didn’t leave.”

“We’re just at the courthouse. Lawrence James thinks he can get us a hearing this afternoon. He’s confident we can get an Interim Guardian appointed.”

“Alright, we’re on our way to you now.” Greg hung up, throwing the keys to Sam hoping that giving him something to do would help take his mind off things.

***

Dr. Toth didn’t stay to watch the IV go through, leaving Spike in the company of the nurse. Spike waited until he was sure Toth was gone then moved his head forward cautiously, pausing to see if the nurse noticed. Other than a bored sigh, there was no reaction.

It was a tricky move to pull off as there was almost no give in the bindings around his wrists. But they hadn’t taped down the cannula all that securely so once he managed to bend his neck and angle his head, pulling the tube from his hand with his teeth was easy. He dropped it from his mouth, letting it fall to the table next to his wrist.

He held his breath to see if the change was noticed or if the machine would start beeping. But the liquid continued to seep out through the tube, pooling on the metal table. Blood welled up where he’d pulled the tube out, seeping slowly from the wound and trickling down to mingle with the medication. There. Now he’d bought his Sentinels some time.

He let his eyes close, faking sleep. He’d have liked to turn his wrist, cover the needle site, but he couldn’t twist his wrist at all. The fluid from the IV was cold against his bare skin. He knew there’d be no way they’d miss it once they tried to move him. He just hoped the didn’t check on him too soon.

“Now, we’ll just check your vitals.” The nurse said, wrapping a cuff around his arm. He held his breath as she worked. The cuff tightened almost to the point of pain before releasing slowly.

“Hmmm. A little low. You might need some fluids when that IV goes through.”

To his relief, she didn’t check it.

***

Ed hated feeling helpless. He was a man of action. A man of tactics. They were given an emergency court slot at 2pm. Sentinel/Guide cases were always given priority, especially in the cases of bonded pairs. The Guide Centre had been contacted and agreed to send their legal representative.

He and Sophie sat outside the court. Lawrence James had gone to file some papers, promising to return as soon as he could and talk them through what would happen. In the meantime, Sam and Greg arrived.

“Have you picked up much through the bond?” Ed asked, adding. “I thought maybe I felt something, about an hour ago. Just a… sense of despair. Nothing since.”

Sam nodded. “We felt it too.”

The four of them sat together, Ed holding Sophie’s hand in his. She was calmer now, more angry than upset. Ed knew that, somehow, she was buffering him, similar to how Spike would have. Had she not been there, he’d have been pacing the floors, tearing someone's head off trying to get things moving. Instead, while he wouldn’t describe himself as calm, he was under control and that was something.

“James should be back soon, said he’ll explain what to expect when we go into the courtroom. Wordy is on his way as our nominated Guardian.”

***

Another nurse arrived to let the one monitoring him go on her break. This one didn’t show the level of disinterest the first had. He walked around the bed, checking Spike’s restraints and then the IV line. It took seconds for him to realise the cannula was out, and another second to find the pool of congealed blood and liquid beneath Spike’s arm and body.

He stopped the machine and called Dr. Toth. The man in question stormed in minutes later, took in the scene, and started snapping out orders.

“Restrain his legs separately. Put another cannula in, use his foot this time. Send Nurse Holdon to my office. Nice try, Guide Scarlatti, but you’re only making things harder on yourself.”

It was only minutes later that a new IV was set up. Spike, immobilised still, couldn’t even see the progess of the liquid through the plastic tubing. He felt it though, the chemical burning as it entered his vein.

Minutes passed in silence, except for the rhythmic slide and click of the pump dispensing the medication. Spike began to feel strange, a heat spreading through his body. It was followed minutes later by a sensation like pins and needles across his skin. Then he began to shiver in earnest, body cooling rapidly.

The nurse sitting next to him checked his vitals again. “You’re starting to feel the effects I think. I’ve heard this is like going through a bad bout of the flu at first, then it starts to feel like you’re brain is being burned from the inside out. Dr. Toth said to call him when the screaming starts.”

The nurse's tone was hard to read. He was an older man, maybe in his forties. He reached a hand out and stroked a hand across Spike’s forehead. “Sorry kid, you’re in for a rough ride. I asked about a sedative or pain relief but Toth vetoed it. You must have really pissed him off.”

“My Sentinels will come for me.” Spike replied, trying to sound confident.

“I’m sorry Guide Scarlatti, by the time they get here, it’ll be too late.” There was real regret in the nurse’s voice, hand stroking Spike’s forehead again as another bout of shivering struck him.

***

Greg rubbed a hand across his head, frowning.

“You alright?” Ed asked.

“Yeah, just feeling a bit off you know? Must be a separation thing. We were due to bond in a few hours.”

Sam frowned. “Is it like a buzzing in your head?”

“You too?” Greg asked, frowning again when Sam nodded.

Lawrence James had dropped by, explaining what would happen in the court room, then disappeared again. Time ticked by slowly until he returned, gesturing for the Sentinels to follow him.

Judge Lavelle was presiding over the court that day. Greg wasn’t familiar with her, but James quietly informed them that she presided over many Sentinel/Guide cases. He hesitated before informing them that it was unlucky they’d got her as her rulings tended to fall on the side of the Sentinel Guide Authority.

The Guide Centre laid their case out first. Unlike the usual court format, each side's lawyer outlined their side before calling witnesses. The three Sentinels listened with disbelief and growing anger when the Centre’s lawyer made a case for Guide abuse, complete with pictures. Nausea welled up in Greg’s stomach as he took in the cuts and welts on their Guide’s body.

They called one of the Centre Guards to the stand, and he told of coming to take Guide Scarlatti into Centre custody and being prevented in doing so by Sophie.

James spoke in an undertone. “Gentleman, don’t worry. I’ve seen these tactics before. I’m confident we’ll get an Interim Guardian appointed.”

It wasn’t enough to allay Greg’s fear. His stomach competed with his head in discomfiting him. But then James stood and started to speak. He had a confidence and charisma about him that Greg couldn’t help but admire.

He named each of them, spoke of their reputations, their commendations, the loss of Lewis Young and the dramatic effect it had had on them. Then, he talked about Michaelangelo “Spike” Scarlatti. How he’d arrived in the midst of their grief, how, at first, they hadn’t been welcoming, hadn’t been kind. But then that changed and they bonded, Spike becoming an intrinsic part of their life.

These, he’d explained, were Sentinels who’d bonded with someone who was a virtual stranger to them, in order to save him from further invasive tests at he hands of the Guide Centre. A Guide who’d been subjected to treatment which would be considered inhumane yet was considered acceptable for a Guide. He spoke a little about the fragile trust they’d established with their Guide as their bond strengthened.

Then, he called Sophie to the stand. She gave her account of the Centre Guards and their arrival at her home. When she spoke of them hitting Spike with the leash, of seeing him bound, bleeding and dragged through her kitchen, there were tears in her eyes that spilled down her cheeks.

Next, he called Greg to the stand, asking him questions about Spike’s treatment before and after they’d bonded. He asked specifically about discipline and Greg felt himself pale, the sickness in his stomach only growing, as he described Spike’s wariness, his fear and how they were slowly working through it. He spoke of Spike’s treatment at the hands of the Centre, of the condition he’d been in when they’d bonded. He too had tears in his eyes when he’d finished speaking.

What really altered the balance was the next witness. A doctor with twenty years experience caring for Guides. His testimony was enlightening.

“I’ve seen and examined hundreds of Guides disciplined by leashes. I can tell you this was made by a standard issue Centre leash, with more force than would be recommended for a discipline leashing. From the redness of the surrounding skin, the colour of the welts themselves, and the lack of bruising, they were extremely recent. I’d say within an hour of the pictures being taken. Also, I’ve checked, and Guide Scarlatti’s Sentinels weren’t issued with leashes and Guide Scarlatti had no leash marks on his body when last examined at the Centre.”

The Centre lawyer cross examined the doctor, trying to suggest he was being too conservative with his times estimates, but the doctor held firm.

The Judge spoke again after everyone was seated.

“I note that aside from the recent leash injuries, and those identified as being due to Guide Scarlatti’s lab testing, there are no additional injuries. I am struggling to understand the Centre’s claim of Guide abuse in these circumstances. As such, and given the nature of these Sentinel’s important societal roles as well as the recency of the bond, I am quashing the Interim Care order and granting an Interim Guardian. I will interview the Guide myself first thing tomorrow and, once I am satisfied, I will return the guardianship of Guide Scarlatti to his bonded Sentinels to ensure no lasting damage to the bond.”

The Centre lawyer looked suddenly uncomfortable, tugging slightly at his collar.

“Is there a problem?” Judge Lavelle asked, one brow arched.

“I’m afraid the Centre has already taken steps to sever the bond.” He said, a slight stammer in his voice.

“I’m sorry, I don’t think I understood you correctly. Could you repeat that?” Judge Lavelle said, shoulders straightening as she took on a more imposing form.

“The Centre decided to act in what they felt was the best interests of the Guide in this situation and proceed with chemical dissolution of the bond. I’m afraid the procedure has already been completed.”

***

It was pain like nothing he had ever felt. Fire through his veins. His head felt wrong, skull two sizes too small for his brain. The sensation only worsened as the minutes passed. His hope began to fade. Where were his Sentinels? Why hadn't they come for him?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not ecstatic with this chapter but it gets us where we need to be.


	24. Lost

Greg had to reach a hand out, bodily shoving Sam back into his seat as Sophie leaned forward and grasped Ed’s shoulder. The sick feeling in his stomach and buzzing in his head suddenly made sense.

The Judge’s tone was acerbic. “The Centre took it upon themselves to dissolve a bond between Guide and Sentinel before a court judgement had been issued? That is unheard of. Who gave permission for this?”

“The order was issued by Dr. Laurence Toth.” The man said. “It was felt the Guide was unstable.”

“Please show me the Guide’s empathic field stability levels prior to the dissolution.” She ordered.

“Um, I don’t have that information to hand…”

“Don’t try my patience. I see a tablet on your table. I assume you are networked to the Guide Centre. I want a readout of the levels in my hands in five minutes.”

As the man fumbled with his tablet, Judge Lavelle turned to the Sentinels. When she spoke her voice was kind, compassionate. “I know this must be shocking for you. Please, bear with me while we get to the bottom of this.”

Sam had a hand to his head, eye closed. Greg squeezed his shoulder. “God, my head hurts.” he mumbled, before falling forward onto the table.

“Doctor, please see to the Sentinel.” The Judge called, alarmed, as she was handed the field results by the Centre’s lawyer.

“These are remarkably stable fields for a newly bonded Guide.” She commented, glancing over at the Sentinels with worry while the Doctor spoke to Sam.

“And clearly not reason for a dissolution of the bond.” She fixed the Centre's lawyer with a questioning stare.

He seemed at a loss for an explanation, staring back at her open mouthed.

The Judge turned back to the Sentinels. “How is he, Doctor?”

“I suspect acute bond shock. What you sometimes see in a Sentinel after the death of a Guide. Caused by a sudden severance of the bond.”

“I thought that only happened in long-established bonds?” Greg asked, holding a hand to his now pounding head.

“That’s the conventional thinking behind it, but a strong enough bond could show the same effects.”

“Why aren’t I showing the same symptoms then?” Ed asked. He looked pale but nowhere near as bad as Sam or Greg did.

“Sophie’s buffering you, Ed. I’d guess it’s just enough to keep your head above the water.” Greg replied.

“Doctor, what is your recommendation?” The Judge asked.

“Bond shock has a thirty percent mortality rate. If the Guide is still alive, they need to be reunited, as soon as possible.”

“ _If_?” Greg looked up alarmed, Sophie had to grab hold of Ed when he lunged to his feet. Even Sam managed to raise his head.

“This severe a reaction in all of you would suggest… I’m sorry, Sentinels. The chemical dissolution of the bond is not without risks. Fatal reactions have been known to happen.”

***

Spike couldn’t quite decide what was worse. The way his body temperature couldn’t seem to decide on a set point, one minute freezing, the next burning. Or the growing sensation like insects were crawling inside his head, faster and faster, until it started to burn. As it did, his empathy started to swing wildly, emotions hitting him from all angles. The pain was unbearable, like someone taking a sledgehammer to his head, over and over. In desperation, he reached out for his Sentinels with his empathy, hoping against hope that they were near.

He distantly heard the nurse call for Dr. Toth. He didn’t remember him arriving but he was suddenly there, standing in front of Spike, talking. Spike couldn’t make out the words but he could feel, for the first time, the emotions held back by the empathy blocker Toth wore but they quickly melded in with the rest, sharp and stinging.

Things faded in and out, the pain growing. Words cut through the din.

“His blood pressure is dropping Dr. Toth. His empathic fields are erratic.”

“Call the arrest team. We need to get him stabilised.”

And then there were hands, undoing his restraints, pushing him onto his back. He faded out again, distantly feeling an oxygen mask being secured over his face.

The last words he heard were ominous.

“Blood pressure is still falling. Empathic fields have completely destabilised. We’re losing him.”

As he faded out of consciousness for the last time, Spike realised the truth. His Sentinel’s really would be too late.

***

Everyone turned to the Centre lawyer. “I have no information on the Guide’s current condition.” The man said. He was feeling the strain, sweat dripping from his forehead.

“Fine. By order of the court, I am granting the immediate reunification of these Sentinels with their Guide. Two court officers will escort you to the Guide Centre.”

She turned to the Centre’s lawyer. “And you will accompany them and ensure my orders are carried out. Are we understood?”

“Of course, your Honour.”

“The doctor and I will come as well.” James said. Doctor Lee nodded. “I had better travel with Greg and Sam. An acute deterioration is a possibility.”

“I’ll drive Ed.” Sophie said. He was looking worse for wear, arm slung around her shoulders, letting her take some of his weight.

They travelled in two cars. James driving Greg, Sam and the doctor. Sophie driving Ed. A patrol car was enlisted, lights and sirens flashing, to escort them. The court officers followed right behind, the Centre’s lawyer travelling with them.

James tried to get a status update on Spike as they drove, but the Centre refused to release any information.

The drive seemed to take forever. By the time they arrived, Greg was struggling to stand, Sam was barely conscious and Ed was pale and sweating.

Lawrence James took charge, directing the officers to help the Sentinels inside. He carried the Judge’s orders in himself, the Centre’s lawyer trailing behind him.

“I assume you’re expecting us.” James announced as they walked in the door. Mr. Tobin was standing at reception. He took the sheet of paper from James, gave it a cursory glance, and nodded, face grim.

“I’m afraid you’re too late, gentleman. But, please, come with me.”

***

Larry Toth was sitting in his office, head in his hands. Dr. Roberts knocked at the door.

“There are always risks.” She offered as the stepped inside, arms folded.

“Do you think the Authority will see it that way? Guide Scarlatti was the future of Sentinel-Guide development…”

He gestured to the files across his desk. Page after page of laboratory and field test results.

“And we proceeded with dissolution of the bond without a court order. At the very least, there will be an internal investigation into Guide Scarlatti’s death. There may very well be a criminal one, seeing as it happened while the matter itself was still in the process of court adjudication…” He trailed off, shaking his head with regret.

“The Sentinels have arrived. Tobin is seeing to them.”

“Ensure the Guards are prepared. The Sentinel’s reaction is likely to be severe. They made need sedation.”

“They’ve distributed the tranquiliser guns in that eventuality.”

“Good. Then we wait.”

***

“We moved him from the laboratory to a quieter room. One that will be easier on all your senses.” Tobin said as they walked. “It’s usually used as a bonding suite.”

He stopped at the door. Greg could hear a faint heartbeat from inside. A familiar one.

“He’s still alive?” There was a brief spark of hope.

“He’s fading fast. His empathic fields have totally collapsed. I’m afraid there was nothing more to be done.”

He opened the door.

“We will leave you alone with your Guide. Someone will remain outside if you require any assistance.”

Ed and Greg carried Sam between them into the room. There was little by way of furniture. A large soft mat covered most of the floor and at its centre lay Spike, on his back, covered in a blanket. He was wearing the standard issue lab gown and trousers. He looked small and pale, dwarfed by the size of the mat he lay on.

“Let’s lie Sam down beside him.” Greg suggested. As they did, Sam came to. “Spike?”

“He’s here, Sam. He’s right here.” Ed said as Sam turned towards their Guide.

Greg knelt next to Spike to check him over, stretching out his senses as he did. “Easy Spike, it’s just me.”

Spike’s heart rate was slow, breathing shallow. His skin was cold to the touch and he didn’t stir beneath Greg’s hand. He had a swollen, split lip, wound stark against his pale skin. There was a cut across his shoulder. "They really worked him over." Ed murmured.

Greg smelled fresh blood and pulled the blanket down before gently turning Spike onto his side.

Two small strains of dark red were visible along his spine, with other patches visible here and there

“What is it?” Ed asked, from his position next to Sam.

“He's had a recent lumbar puncture and a subdermal monitor, I think. And another cut, probably from a leash. I don’t want to think what he’s been through these last few hours.”

“And there’s nothing we can…”

“Tobin said his empathic fields have collapsed. I read up on it after his fields destabilised before we bonded…” he trailed off then simply shook his head, sad eyes meeting Ed’s.

He reached his hand out again, placing it gently on the back of Spike’s neck. The Guide didn’t react, his breathing and heart rate continuing to slow.

“Let’s make sure he knows we’re with him.” Ed said. He gently helped Sam onto his side. Sam’s eyes opened and he reached for Spike, hand resting on the bare skin of Spike’s uninjured shoulder. Ed lay down next to Sam, reaching a hand across to make contact with Spike’s back.

Greg moved last, lying against Spike’s back. He curled a hand across Spike’s neck, closed his eyes, and instinctively tried to initiate a bond. It was like trying to strike a match across damp tinder. A brief spark and then nothing.

“Spike? We’re right here with you. I’m sorry we didn’t get here sooner.” Sam spoke aloud, eyes more alert, watching their Guide.

Ed tried too. “Spike buddy, it’s okay. We’re all here.”

“Do you think he can hear us?” Sam asked.

“I don’t know, Sam. I hope so.” Greg replied.

They lapsed into silence, each of them keeping physical contact with Spike, each tracking his heartbeat with their senses as it continued to slow.

“How come I feel so much better?” Sam asked suddenly, disturbing the quiet. “I mean, I went into shock because Spike was dying right? If he’s still dying, how come I’m not still in shock?”

Greg sat up as something in Sam’s words gave him pause.

“I feel better too. Ed?”

“Yeah, almost like normal. What’s it mean?”

Greg pondered the question for a moment.

“What if it’s not field collapse? Spike’s different, right? His empathic range is wide, he can form a connection with Sentinel’s over long distances. They tried to destroy the bond so he reached out to maintain a link with us. We were at the court house, well outside his normal range. What if his field isn’t collapsed, but stretched thin from trying to reach us?”

“Hold that thought.” Ed stood and went to the door, having a murmured conversation with whoever was outside.

He returned. “Doc says it’s a long shot. But if we’re right, only thing to do now is keep contact and keep trying to establish a bond.”

He lay back down next to Sam, returning his hand to Spike’s back. There was a spark of hope that hadn't been there moments before. All was not lost.

***

Time passed slowly. Each attempt to form a bond fizzled out in seconds, but they persisted. Spike’s heartbeat was still slow but had stopped dropping.

Greg became aware of a change. “Spike?”

The reply was mumbled and barely audible, but their keen Sentinel senses picked up on it.

“Knew you’d come.”

Soon after, his heart rate picked up and he began to shiver in earnest. The wrapped the blanket tighter around him, calling for Doctor Lee.

He came inside but stayed near the door. “Shivering is a good sign. It means his body is trying to regulate itself again. We’ll turn up the heat in the room and get more blankets. Have you managed to initiate a bond?”

“No.” Ed replied.

“Even a superficial one would be something. Keep trying.”

Another hour passed, Spike’s shivering lessening as the room heated up. Greg tried once more to initiate a bond, managing the most tentative of connections.

“Sam, Ed. I’ve got a link. It’s tenuous at best, but it’s there. Can you see if you can do the same?”

Greg knew instinctively that Spike was looking for all three of them. If they formed a bond, formed a connection, he’d know they were there, his empathic field would have something to latch on to.

He caught the relieved smile on Sam’s face seconds later and saw the tension ease from Ed’s shoulders.

“Spike, buddy, can you hear me?” Greg called gently. Spike stirred a little, eyes blinking open. “Thought you’d never get here. Almost too late.” He mumbled.

“I know, Spike, I know buddy. I’m so sorry. But we’re here now, and we’re not going anywhere.” Greg reassured.

“That’s good.” Spike yawned, reaching out a hand to pat one of the hands on his shoulder. Then he tensed, eyes flying open and seeking out Ed. “Sophie. They took…”

“She’s fine, Spike.” Ed rushed to reassure him. “She’s just outside the door.”

“Sophie? Doctor Lee?” Greg called.

The door opened, three startled faces peering in.

“Look who’s awake.”

Spike relaxed when he caught sight of Sophie. He gave her a weak smile and an even weaker wave.

She took a step forward, but Doctor Lee held a hand out. “They're still in the early states of bond reunification. It would be wise to keep our distance. Sentinels, Guide Scarlatti, you need to keep connected for now. I’ll ask for some food to be brought to you soon. We’ll see that you are otherwise undisturbed."

He gestured for Sophie to proceed him out the door that James was holding open.

“Soph?” Ed called. She turned back. “I love you.” She gave him a relieved smile. “I love you too. I’ll be waiting for you. Look after him.” She gestured to Spike whose eyes has closed again.

The door shut, silence filling the room as they all settled back down. They weren't out of the woods yet, but things no longer looked so grim. They had their Guide and they had a bond, however fragile it may have been right then.


	25. Bumps in the Road

The hours passed slowly as they maintained the link to their Guide. Spike’s second awakening was more fraught with tension than the first.

He’d fallen into a deep sleep, then moved into a lighter sleep, before he began to dream.

That’s when the trouble started, Spike twisting beneath the blankets.

“Spike, it’s just a nightmare. Time to wake up.” Sam tried, his hand squeezing very gently on Spike’s shoulder.

Spike woke with a jerk, opening his eyes to see Sam’s face mere inches from his, and panicked, scrambling backwards and colliding with Greg, who caught hold of him.

Spike fought to free himself.

“No, hey, Spike. It’s just me, it’s Greg.” His words didn’t have the desired effect, not stalling Spike’s attempts to detangle himself.

“Hey, hey, what’s all this?” Greg tried again, as he pulled the blankets away. Exhaustion caught up with Spike and he sagged, one hand catching himself as slipped towards the floor.

“Sentinel?” Spike asked, looking from Greg to Sam and Ed and back. He seemed confused by their presence or maybe their surroundings.

“Spike?” Greg tried again, backing off a little as he realised his proximity was causing Spike more distress.

“I’m sorry Sentinel, I…” he paused, looking around the room again. “We were training?”

“No…” Greg tried to get Spike to meet his eyes, but the young Guide ducked his head. “Spike, buddy, look at me for a minute.”

Spike tensed but did as he was bid, eyes meeting Greg’s.

“I’m sorry Sentinel.” He said again. He had sat up on his knees, his hands resting on them, fingers digging in until knuckles turned white.

Ed moved and Spike’s eyes snapped to him, wary, before returning to Greg. There was no recognition in Spike’s eyes when he looked at them beyond the fact that they were clearly Sentinels.

“Spike, what’s my name?” Greg asked, keeping his voice gentle.

“I don’t… I don’t know, Sentinel. I’m sorry.”

“That’s okay, Spike. Eddie, will you go and see if Doctor Lee is still here?”

“Sure, I’ll be right back.” Ed said, before standing slowly, worried eyes watching Spike. He stepped outside the door and the murmur of voices carried inside the room.

“Spike?” Sam tried, looking very unsettled at the turn of events.

“Sentinel?” Spike replied, not quite looking at Sam.

“No, it’s Sam, _remember_?”

And Greg was starting to realise the problem. This wasn’t a few moments of confusion on wakening from a deep sleep. Spike was awake and alert but seemed confused as to who or where or why.

“I’m sorry, Sentinel.” He said again. He sounded scared.

“It’s okay, Spike. You’re not in any trouble.” Greg tried for soothing but just the sound of his voice seemed to have the Guide curling in on himself.

The door opened, Ed returning followed by Doctor Lee and a woman Greg didn't recognise.

“Guide Scarlatti.” Doctor Lee had come as far as the edge of the mat and knelt down so he was eye level with their Guide.

“My name is Doctor Lee. We haven’t met before, but I believe you know Dr. Roberts.”

Spike paled at the doctor’s name, eyes looking up at her before meeting Doctor Lee’s eyes. “Yes, Doctor.” He replied.

“Guide Scarlatti, do you know the three Sentinels here with you.”

“No, Doctor.” His reply was accompanied by a shake of his head.

“But you recognise Doctor Roberts?”

“Yes, Doctor.”

“And do you know where you are?”

“The Guide Centre.”

“Good, that’s right. And can you tell me the date?”

Spike thought for a moment before shaking his head. “No Doctor.”

Doctor Lee turned to Roberts. “How much of the dissolution chemical was administered.”

“Five hundred millilitres. One point two five milligrams per ml.”

“Is there a reason you started with the highest possible dose instead of the lowest like the guidelines recommend?”

Doctor Roberts pursued her lips. “Doctor Toth chose the dose he felt was best.”

“And the dose with the highest risk of side effects, including a twenty percent chance of retrograde amnesia.” Doctor Lee kept his tone calm but the look he gave Roberts was anything but friendly.

“Amnesia?” Sam said, eyeing Spike with alarm. It got Spike’s attention too, he looked up at the doctor again but didn’t speak.

“You’ll be reassured to learn it’s temporary for the most part but it does take some time to wear off. Usually a matter of days.”

He turned to address Spike again.

“Guide Scarlatti, I know this must be very frightening for you. These gentleman are your bonded Sentinels. They’re police officers with the Strategic Response Unit. Sergeant Greg Parker, Officers Ed Lane and Sam Braddock.” Lee pointed them each out in turn.

Spike seemed taken aback at the news that he was bonded, and to three Sentinels no less.

“Sentinels, did you manage to form a bond?” Doctor Lee asked.

“Yes, for the past few hours. It cut off when Spike woke up.” Greg replied. “But he recognised us just fine the first few times he woke up, why has this happened now?”

“It’s a delayed side effect of the dissolution chemical. It typically presents eight to ten hours after administration.”

“Any other side effects we should be watching out for?” Ed asked.

“Fever, bruising, headache, nausea, confusion. Sometimes an irregular heartbeat.” Doctor Lee replied.

“What should we do?” Sam asked, watching Spike with concern. He wasn’t really reacting to what was being said.

“Take him home. Bond frequently. Give it time. The memories will come back.” His certainty was reassuring.

***

They brought him to Sergeant Parker’s house. Spike wasn’t sure why there or where he usually lived. A Guide hostel maybe? When they got inside, he was brought upstairs, handed some towels and directed to the bathroom. He guessed, after spending time in the Centre, he was probably a little offensive to the average Sentinel’s nose.

He didn’t lock the door, worried his Sentinels would see it as an act of defiance. They’d certainly hear the turn of the key in the lock.

He undressed slowly, knowing he felt sore but unsure why. Pulling off the gown and getting a good look at himself in the mirror was very enlightening.

There were marks from a leash on his face, shoulder, back and legs. There was some kind of puncture site at the back of his neck, dried blood surrounding it, and bruising from an LP. And bruises elsewhere. Wrists, ankles, arms.

It painted a picture and not a pretty one. He’d done something, clearly, something his Sentinels had punished him for. And they’d even taken him back to the lab, had him tested and tried to sever the bond. But it hadn’t worked. Maybe there was something wrong with him?

The Sentinels couldn’t be happy that the bond had held. That they were stuck with him.

He turned on the shower and stepped in, letting the water wash away the blood. He picked up the scent neutral shower gel and washed, starting from his hair and working his way slowly downward. He scrubbed hard to clean himself despite the pain. They’d know if he didn’t.

He went over his body top to toe twice before deciding it would have to do. He was too tired, arms too sore to keep going. If it wasn’t enough, he’d just have to take whatever they doled out.

He got out and dried off. There was a knock on the door before it opened part way, Sergeant Parker poking his head in.

“Some clothes for you.” He said, leaving them on the counter before ducking back out and closing the door behind him.

Spike took it as a signal to hurry up and did so, dressing quickly. There was noise coming from downstairs so he headed down to face the music.

***

Sam ordered take out while Spike showered. Ed found himself pacing as they waited for him to come downstairs.

“Something on your mind Ed? Beyond the obvious.” Greg asked.

“He probably knows what an injury from a leash looks like, right?”

“Right.” Greg replied, appearing puzzled.

“So he’s gonna see those marks on him and think one of _us_ did that to him.”

He could see from Greg and Sam’s faces that it hadn’t occurred to either of them.

“And it's not just that, he’ll think we brought him to the lab, let them test him and that we tried to dissolve the bond and it failed.” Ed continued his train of thought, the reason for his restlessness becoming clear.

Spike had been uncertain and confused in the car and they hadn't had much by way of conversation, which Ed was now sorely regretting.

“We’ll take things slow. Bond, let him get a feel of us with his empathy and talk him through what’s been going on. We need to trust that we can handle the next few days until he remembers.” Greg sounded more confident than Ed imagined any of them felt right at that moment.


	26. Frayed Edges

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the unplanned hiatus, my urge to write went out the window around draft seven or eight and it has taken time to recapture it. By my count, this is draft ten.

Spike’s heart was in his mouth as he descended the stairs. This wasn’t going to be good. Three Sentinels with a Guide they didn’t want, a Guide who couldn’t remember a single thing about them or how to effectively Guide them.

At least he recognised the clothes they’d given him. At least they’d given him clothes. He pulled the sleeves down to cover his wrists and wrapped his arms around his stomach.

Dr. Lee had given him a rescue injection before they'd left the lab, so he didn't have to deal with his empathy on top of everything else. In one way he was grateful but in another he'd have preferred to have some sense of what the Sentinels were feeling. They kept calling him Spike, despite Dr. Toth outlawing nicknames long ago and Spike didn't know if that was a positive or not.

All three men looked up when he stepped into the room.

“Hey Spike, how are you feeling?” The younger one, Officer Braddock, asked him.

“Okay, I guess, sir.” He replied. The Sentinel seemed bemused by his response, head turning to the side as his blue eyes watched Spike.

“It’s Sam, Spike, not sir. We’ve ordered take out. It won’t be long.”

Food? That was good, right? From the empty ache in his stomach he suspected it had been a while since he’d eaten last.

The older man, Sergeant Parker, seemed uncertain as he spoke. It didn’t help Spike, who already felt on edge. “I think it might be good if we bond for a bit before the food gets here.”

Oh. Okay. “Here? Now?” Spike asked, taking a brief look around the living room. There wasn’t a bonding mat in sight.

“Yeah.” The Sentinel replied.

The hammering of Spike’s heart in his chest didn’t get any better. He’d never, at least that he could remember, bonded fully with a Sentinel. He knew the handbook rules though, knew the form. There was no mat but there was a rug in the centre of the floor. Maybe that would do?

It was the other part that filled him with dread. Full bonding was generally done with the guide clothes-less, to reinforce the dependence of the Guide on his Sentinel. But being naked in front of three pissed off Sentinels was nauseating to think about.

As he stepped up to the rug, wondering if they’d leash him before they bonded. He hadn’t seen a leash yet but it didn’t mean they hadn’t one to hand. Though only seconds had passed, he felt like he was dawdling. And if he felt it, they would too.

He released the grip he had on his sleeves, reaching down to grab the hem of his pullover and tugged it up and off his head. He folded it and placed it on the floor. Police Sentinels would be a lot like military ones, wouldn’t they? They’d like order and neatness.

He could feel the blood rushing to his face but ignored it. There was no such thing as modesty for a Guide. He reached for his pants, unsnapping the button and grasping the zip. It was hard to get a deep breath in, his blood rushing in his ears.

A voice was calling his name, the tone urgent. He looked up. Sergeant Parker stood before him, hands out, placating. “Spike, buddy, what are you doing?” His tone was pure confusion. Spike froze, mouth dry. Oh god, he’d made a mistake.

It was Officer Braddock who answered Sergeant Parker’s question, a hand covering his face briefly as he spoke.

“It’s in the Handbook. Full bonding is usually done with the Guide naked, to reinforce their vulnerability and dependence on the Sentinel for protection.” There was a dawning understanding on the other Sentinel’s face.

“Oh, okay. No, you don’t need to do that Spike.” Sergeant Parker said, shaking his head, before crouching down to retrieve Spike’s shirt.

Spike let a out a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding. The Sergeant handed his pullover back to him, movements slow, gaze watchful.

“Why don’t we sit down?” He said, as Spike pulled the sweater back over his head.

He followed the Sentinel to the couch and took a seat next to him.

***

Spike was all over the place; his heart rate raised, body sweating, pupils dilated. Greg didn’t want to know what he was expecting would happen. He reached a hand out towards him and Spike held himself still as Greg’s hand made contact with his shoulder, his body a knot of tension.

“Link with me, Spike?” The Guide, eyes downcast, made no move to open up a connection between them.

“Spike?” Greg nudged gently. “You know how to open a link right?”

The Guide nodded. “Good. You go ahead whenever you’re ready.”

And he waited. Nothing happened except Spike’s heart rate sped up, eyes flickering nervously towards him.

“Okay Spike, that’s okay. We can try again later.” He released his grip on the younger man, some of the tension visibly leaving the Guide’s body.

The doorbell rang, startling Spike, and Sam went to the door to collect their food, taking it into the kitchen and laying it out on the table. Ed and Greg followed him in, Spike trailing behind them.

Greg handed Spike a plate, took one for himself and decided to lead by example, taking something from each of the containers. Sam was doing likewise. Spike was standing a little way back from the table, the plate held tightly in his hand.

“Spike, come on and get some food.” Ed encouraged, gesturing for Spike to come forward. The Guide’s every move seemed uncertain as he approached, the three Sentinels watching him as he reached for the nearest dish and ladled a small amount of food into his plate before stepping back from the table.

Greg heard Ed’s sigh, followed by an impatient. “Spike, give that here.” Spike, shoulders hunched and eyes downcast, handed the plate back over.

Ed ladled more food on, before handing it back. “Here, Spike.”

The Guide reached for the plate without looking up then seemed surprised by its weight. He couldn't keep his grip on the plate and it slipped from his hand, hitting the floor with a crash, the sound carrying across the room.

Spike had frozen in horror, looking down at the floor. It might have been comical if not for the circumstances.

“I’m sorry, Officer Lane. I didn’t meant to…” Spike knelt down as he spoke, hands reaching for the broken plate.

***

He’d been so stupid, dropping the plate. They’d given him more food that he’d dared take and he’d gone and ruined it. At least they couldn’t still make him eat it. There was a rule in the handbook that covered that. But as he grasped the first of the plate pieces, the Sentinels called out to him, Officer Lane moving around the table and coming towards him. He jerked back, the pieces slipping before he automatically gripped them tighter.

He was bodily lifted from the floor by the Sentinel. _Dark Sentinel_ , his mind supplied from nowhere. The shards dropped from his hands.

“Sentinel, please, I’m sorry.” He said as he was set down on his feet.

The Sentinel ignored him. “Greg, can you get the first aid kit. Sam, will you hand me that dish cloth”

Spike didn’t understand until Officer Lane was pressing the cloth against his hand and blood was seeping through it. Oh.

It would be the leash again, he supposed. Maybe they’d eat first before they punished him. Otherwise their food would get cold.

He tried not to let himself get overwhelmed, tried to keep forcing air into his lungs. These strangers were his bonded Sentinels. He was supposed to be with them for life but they’d tried to rid themselves of their connection to him. And it hadn’t worked and they were stuck with him and what would they do now if not make his life hell?

He couldn’t stop the tears that rolled down his face. He was scared and tired and he _hurt_. And they were going to hurt him more and it wasn’t _fair_. He didn’t _want_ to be a Guide, he hadn’t _asked_ for this.

Officer Lane had wrapped the cloth tight around his palm and was keeping pressure with one hand. When he caught sight of the tears on Spike’s face, he frowned.

“Hey now, what’s this? You’re not crying over a broken plate are you?”

The Sentinel smiled at him but it faded when Spike looked back at him with fear and dread, tears spilling unchecked down his cheeks.

To Spike’s surprise, he found himself pulled into a one armed embrace, the Sentinel keeping a careful grip on his injured hand while his free hand rubbed light circles on Spike’s back. “Hey, you’re okay buddy. Calm down now. Everything is okay.” The Sentinel kept up a gentle litany of comforting words but they did nothing to calm Spike.

“Alright, that’s enough.” His words and tone were mismatched, the Sentinel's voice soft. His hand moved from Spike’s back to his neck. Spike realised too late his intentions as the Sentinel’s mind pressed against his. He tried to pull away, break the Sentinel’s hold, but he was too weak and the lure of the bond too strong.

“Shhh, Spike. I’m not gonna hurt you but you need to let me link now. You’re scared, I get it. You’re sore and bruised and probably convinced you’re in for more of the same. But it’s not true. Link with me and feel it for yourself.”

Spike ceased his struggles and gave in. What little fight he may have had before had leaked out of him through the bruises, welts and puncture marks on his body.

The Sentinel’s mind touched against him once more before pushing lightly. Spike sighed and forced himself to relax his barriers, allowing the Sentinel to make a connection.

He gasped as the Sentinel’s emotions rushed through, fearing more pain. But despite their intensity, they didn’t hurt. There was anger there, certainly, but it was tempered, controlled and not aimed at him. Behind it was reassurance and a fierce protectiveness. It was enough to pause Spike's tears.

The Sentinel released his grip on Spike’s neck but kept the link open between them. “That’s better.” He smiled as Spike wiped the tears from his face with his uninjured hand.

“Let’s get your hand sorted and then we’ll talk. Here, sit down.” He guided Spike to sit at the table. Sergeant Parker had set out the first aid kit and Officer Lane pulled it towards him as he took a seat next to Spike, moving his chair so they were face to face.

“Now let’s take a look.” He carefully unwrapped the cloth from around Spike’s hand, peeling away the blood soaked material before reaching for an disinfectant wipe. He took a close look at the wound as he cleaned it carefully.

“It’s not so bad. Shallow. Won’t need stitches. We’ll just wrap it up well. Here, hold this against it.”

He pressed a gauze pad to it, waiting for Spike to hold it in place before letting go. Then he picked up a bandage and wound it tightly around Spike’s hand.

“There, all done.” The Sentinel smiled at him again.

Spike wasn’t used to people taking care of him unless they had to. But he supposed these Sentinels had to now. They were still bonded to him.

But still, he needed to be sure of their limits, and he wanted to get the worst over with. “Do you want me to get the leash, Sentinel?” The punishment couldn’t be much worse than the anticipation. The younger Sentinel, who had been hovering at the periphery of Spike’s vision, crouched next to Spike’s chair. He was shaking his head even before he spoke. “There’s no leash, Spike. We don’t have one. And even if we did...”

Spike’s uninjured hand went to the leash mark on his shoulder. He wasn’t about to accuse them of lying but…

“That wasn’t us, Spike. That was the Guards from the Centre. We have never laid a hand on you like that and we aren’t about to start now.” Sergeant Parker interjected, moving to take a seat across from him at the table.

“But then why did you try to sever the bond?” Spike asked in bewilderment. It was the only question that mattered, when it came down to it. A look passed between the Sentinels before he got an answer.

“We didn’t. Dr. Toth did.” The younger Sentinel spoke up again, resting a hand on Spike’s knee as he did. The bond flared to life between them, the truth behind his words laid bare.

“Toth got an interim protection order for you using a false allegation of Guide neglect, and illegally attempted to sever the bond. It almost killed you. We thought… we thought we were too late, but when we got to the Centre, you were still clinging to life. And now you’re safe, back where you belong.” The emotions coming through the link were jumbled.

Oh. “You didn’t try to get rid of me? It wasn’t because of my empathy?” People wanting rid of him Spike could understand. It was all he’d felt from the people closest to him since he’d come online.

Glances were exchanged between the Sentinels again. He wondered what was going unspoken, what he was missing. The older Sentinel reached a hand across the table, gripping Spike’s wrist just below the bandage, and the link was complete.

“The reason we bonded with you in the first place was to get you away from Toth. We figured out what he was doing to you in the lab. We saw the bruises, the needle marks. We only learned about your empathy recently but it never crossed any of our minds to try and sever the bond. You didn’t _choose_ to be a Guide, didn’t _choose_ an empathic field you can’t control. But we _chose_ to be your bonded Sentinels. We’ll take the good with the bad, alright?”

Spike spent a few moments thinking through their words. He knew they were telling the truth, could feel it through the link he had with all three.

“You guys are either really awesome or really crazy.” The words sprang from him almost of their own accord and he tensed in anticipation of their response. They were slow to react, taken aback, but then they were smiling and laughing, the tension in the room easing.

“Let’s hope it’s the former.” Sergeant Parker said as he stood from the table. “Now, how about we eat? I’m starving.”


	27. Building Blocks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, this chapter was an exceptionally long time in the making and has been badly proofread, but I feel that if I don't get this posted I might never make any progress. A big thank you to siennavie for spurring me to get back on track.

They sat around the table as they ate their reheated food. Sam watched Spike, the Guide eating with more enthusiasm than he’d have expected. He was calmer too, heart no longer racing. They kept the superficial link between them open as they ate.

“After dinner, we should bond properly. We need to get your empathic shields up to full strength before the rescue injection wears off, and the three of us could do with stabilising our senses.”

Spike paused in his eating. They could feel his uncertainty, his fear, through the link. “How do we normally bond? I mean, do you have a bonding mat?”

“No. We don’t have a mat.” Greg replied. Spike’s uncertainty ratcheted up a notch.

“Normally we bond sitting on the couch, sometimes while watching tv. And sometimes lying down in bed, especially when you’re tired or hurt.”

That got Spike’s attention, eyes widening. “But the handbook says…”

“I’ve read the handbook Spike. Cover to cover.” Sam interrupted. “There’s some messed up stuff in it. We’ve mostly been doing our own thing. Though we’ve done anchoring and imprinting with you.”

That didn’t seem to reassure Spike and Sam wasn’t sure what the problem was until Greg spoke.

“The bond is purely platonic Spike, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Spike blushed but seemed relieved, nodding and moving on. “So does full bonding work at a distance or does it always need physical contact?”

“We haven’t really had a chance to test that out. We had been building up the amount of time we could sustain our senses between bonding and seeing how long your empathic shields hold up. Once your shields can last more than twelve hours, we should be able to start back at work.”

“How do we handling bonding with you being a Dark Sentinel?” Spike directed this question towards Ed, but it surprised all three of them.

“How did you know about that? Can you sense it through the link?” Ed asked.

“Not exactly. I think I remembered earlier when you were bandaging my hand.”

Ed seemed pleased. “That’s a good sign, you’re starting to remember. And to answer your question, I’ve mostly been doing hand to hand practice with Sam before we bond. I also tried doing a workout beforehand and that seemed to do the trick too. We’re still figuring things out but it shouldn’t be a problem when we’re on shift, I can’t imagine my adrenaline being too low to bond when we’re out on a call.”

Spike nodded and yawned, letting his fork rest on his plate.

“I think we’ll settle you in the guest room for the night and bond while you rest. You’ve had a really long day.” Greg said in response to Spike’s second yawn in the space of a minute.

“Okay, sure.” Spike replied, the idea not inspiring the fear and tension it had earlier from what Sam could tell.

Sam led him upstairs while Ed and Greg cleared the table. It was the first time they’d been alone for a few days, and, Sam guessed, the first time they’d ever been alone as far as Spike was concerned.

“So it must be pretty scary not remembering us or how you ended up here, huh?” he said as he led Spike into the bedroom.

“Is that a rhetorical question?” Spike threw back, then paled as he realised what he’d said. “I’m sorry Sentinel…”

Sam held up his hand. “Okay, first off, calm down. You’ll have Ed and Greg up here in a minute if you’re heart rate keeps spiking like that. And, for the record, you always call me Sam and Ed is Ed, sir maybe, if the situation calls for it. The Sarge is Greg at home, boss or Sarge at work. No more of this Sentinel, Officer, Sir stuff, okay? It’s not how we do things.”

He waited for Spike to nod in acknowledgement before continuing.

“Secondly, you don’t need to watch what you’re saying when it’s just us. Sure, if Commander Holleran is around you might want to watch your P's and Q's, but, around the team, you can speak your mind. Yeah, if you cross a line, Ed will pull you up on it, but he likes a bit of verbal sparring, you know?”

Spike nodded again, absorbing with interest everything Sam was telling him.

“And you can pull way back on the apologising too, okay? We’re not those kind of Sentinels. We don’t expect obedience or deference, we don’t want you walking a step behind us. And you’re a lot of fun when you’re full on with the quick-witted smart-mouthed comebacks. Just be _you_ , just be Spike. Don’t be the Guide you imagine we want.”

It was a lot of words, most of which probably contradicted what Spike had previously been taught and Sam could see him turning them over in his mind.

“You guys really haven’t a clue about being Sentinels, do you?” Spike finally said. “Hey.” Sam retorted, though he was smiling. “We just came online, you’re the one with all the experience. And you’re the Guide. You lead, we’ll follow.”

***

Spike flopped down on his back on the bed only to wince at the pain the action caused and turned instead to lie on his front. His body and mind were weary and he felt weighed down. He could feel the rescue injection wearing off, emotions beginning to seep through the barrier, but they were weak and blurred. He didn’t realise he was in danger of falling asleep until the bed dipped beside him and he jerked back awake.

“Relax Spike.” Sam said, and Spike let his eyes close again. A thought entered his head and he roused enough to speak, lifting his head. “What about Ed and bonding?”

“He’s gone for a run around the block. We’ll bond with you when he gets back.”

Spike let his head fall back down onto the pillow and he drowsed on the bed.

Some time later a hand rested on his shoulder. He tensed involuntarily. “It’s just us.” Sam said, the hand on his shoulder rubbing gentle circles.

“Right, sorry.” He replied sleepily as he felt the bed dip around him. He turned his head and found Greg beside him on the bed.

“So Spike, we’ve had a talk about it and we think we probably need to bond like we did the very first time. Meaning we'll bond fully, all three of us at the one time. Can you move to the center of the bed, so we can position ourselves around you?”

Spike got his arms under him and shifted up off the pillow. There was a bloodstain on the pillowcase beneath him and he frowned down at it before wiping a hand across his face, coming away with a smear of blood.

“Has the cut on your lip opened?” Greg asked, “Here, let me take a look.” His gently hand caught Spike’s chin and turned it towards him as Spike knelt on the bed.

“It’s clotted over again. You probably rubbed it off the pillow. We’ll put some antiseptic on it before you sleep.” Greg added.

Spike shifted down the bed.

“Um,” he tugged at the collar of his shirt. “Should I take this off?”

“Only if you’re comfortable. We can work around it if we need to.” Ed said.

“No, it’s okay.” Spike replied with a yawn, shrugging it off over his shoulders. The room was warm and he was comfortable.

“Now, you lie down here, your head on the pillow. Keep your face turned to the side so the cut on your lip isn't aggravated. We’ll use your neck and your upper back as points to anchor to. Don’t worry, we’ll be mindful of your bruises and cuts.”

He did as instructed, unable to hide another yawn. “Sleep if you want, it won’t disrupt the bond.” Sam said, as he placed a hand just below Spike’s shoulder.

“Yeah, you weren’t conscious the first time around either.” Ed joked and a second hand rested on his other shoulder.

“Okay, Spike.” Greg said, as his hand pressed below Spike’s neck. “We’re going to take this nice and slow. Take some deep breaths now.”

Spike took a deep breath in, then out, then back in again and there was a sudden pressure as all three Sentinel’s minds pressed against him. Tension built, as if a dam had formed in his mind, and they were trying to push through. It hurt and he couldn’t stop the cry that passed his lips as his hands scrambled for purchase against the duvet. The hands on him tightened but it was supportive and not punitive.

“Hold on Spike. Breathe through it.” Greg instructed, voice calm. Spike forced himself to draw another breath in. “That’s it buddy.” Ed encouraged.

A crack formed in the dam, there was a sudden burst of pain and then release. He sagged back down onto the bed as the minds of the three Sentinel’s melded with his. “That’s it, Spike. Well done. Just rest now.” Sam praised.

He let his eyes close and the sensations washed over him. The concern from all three Sentinel’s at the forefront. How and why did they care so much? It was the anathema of almost everything Spike had experienced since becoming a Guide.

“We care because of who we are and who you are, Spike. Our jobs relies on us seeing everyone at a basic human level and connecting with them. Guide or not, you are no exception to that. And with your empathy, that connection is even more important.”

He could feel the truth of Greg’s words through the bond, feel the agreement of Ed and Sam. It quietened his doubts and he relaxed again, enjoying the intimacy and protection of the bond. Within it, though he was exposed to the emotions of his Sentinels, he was protected from the detritus of emotions from the wider world.

Soft voices woke him sometime later and he was aware that only one of the Sentinels was still in the room. The connections were still open with all three, and he could sense Greg and Ed were nearby.

Footsteps approached. “Sam, are you staying over?” Greg asked.

“Yeah. Given the circumstances, I’d rather not be far until Spike has his memory back.”

“Ed’s staying too. I think we’ll take turns sitting up with Spike in case there are any further complications from the medication.”

“Sounds like a plan. You okay with that Spike?”

"Sure." he replied, trying, and failing, to fight the urge to sleep. "I'm just gonna... lie here...for a bit." He nodded off again.

Every time he woke, the bond was open, one of his Sentinels with him. Sam first, then Ed, then Greg. At one point he had a nightmare, waking with a strangled cry that brought all three Sentinels into the room. After that he sat up for a while, Greg keeping him company.

“What was it about?” The Sentinel asked.

“The usual. Being held down. Being stuck with needles. That sort of stuff.” Trapped like an animal, unable to escape the pain.

“Spike, there’s something I need you to know.” Greg began to talk, then seemed to falter. Spike could feel the Sentinel’s worry and regret through their link.

“What is it?” he asked, puzzled.

“I’m sorry we couldn’t spare you from what happened today. I promised you that you’d never have to return to the lab and be at Toth’s mercy and I broke that promise.”

“But you didn’t know, right? I mean, you only found out he’d taken me after the fact and Sam said he filed false reports and everything. It’s not like you could have known he’d do that. It's not like you willingly handed me back to him.”

“I still made a promise…”

“Yeah, but it sounds to me like you never actually broke it. I mean, I guess I might feel a little differently when I can actually remember what went on but I don’t think I’ll be blaming you over Toth.”

Greg smiled at his response. “What?” Spike asked.

“I don’t know what we did to deserve a Guide like you.” He was shaking his head.

“What? A smart-mouthed bratty one?” Spike joked. Greg looked surprised. “Sam told me.” Spike added. “He might not have used those exact words but I know what I'm like or what I used to be like.”

“You forgot demanding. You insisted on having chocolate chip ice-cream after bonding.” Greg said, looking serious, though Spike could see the corners of his mouth quirking upwards as he did his best to suppress a smile.

“I did?” Spike perked up at the mention of ice cream.

“Yeah. You want some?”

“Now?”

“Sure, if you want.”

“Um, yes please.”

Ten minutes later they were eating spoonfuls of ice-cream and crunching quietly on chocolate chips.

“Ma would have a heart attack if she thought I was living on take out and ice-cream.” Spike commented between mouthfuls. “She’s big on home-cooking.”

“She’s Italian, right?”

“Mm-hmm.” Spike replied, swallowing. “Yeah, I lived with her and my Dad until I came online as a Guide. For the first while I’d go home any chance I got. But then as my empathy grew it got more and more awkward, especially ‘cause my Dad hates the idea of me working with the police and the military. And Toth started putting restrictions on my visiting, so I mostly stopped going home.”

There was silence for a moment, Spike staring down at the bowl of melting ice-cream. He let the spoon fall back into the bowl and spoke words out loud that he’d never dared to before.

“I hate it. I hate being a Guide. I hate what it’s taken from me, what it’s done to me. My family, my career. Is chocolate chip ice-cream the most I have to look forward to? Is that it?”

Spike knew he’d probably said too much, given away the level of despair he felt at his situation. But his words didn't faze Greg.

“What if we could make it better?”

“From everything you’ve said, it sounds like you already have. You freed me from Toth, you’ve helped stabilise my empathy…”

Greg was shaking his head.

“I’m not just talking about the basics Spike, like making sure you’re not living in pain and misery. What if we could do more? We can’t give you back all that you’ve lost but I’m sure we can help make your life more than just bearable.”

The words resonated in Spike’s mind, a recollected conversation. “Who’s Clark?” He asked, struggling to catch hold of the wisp of memory.

“That’s Ed’s son. You spent a lot of time with him last week. Do you remember something?”

“Talking about life as a Guide, I think. I’m not sure.” He closed his eyes and focused, trying to bring the memory to the surface, but it eluded him. He shook his head.

“Doctor Lee said your memory would start to come back over the next few days. That you’re already beginning to remember is really positive.”

Greg was smiling at his, sending encouragement through bond. It sent a surge of warmth that relaxed the tension that had built in Spike during their conversation. A wave of cold washed over him as he thought about what Greg's words actually meant.

“I’m not sure I want to remember the last few days.” Being beaten by the Guards, separated from his Sentinels and having his bond nearly stripped from him. All memories he was sure were better left forgotten.

“You’re not doing this alone, Spike. We’re right here with you.” Greg's hand closed over his, another wave of reassurance accompanying it.


	28. Cautious Optimism

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm very slowly getting to the end of this fic. Thanks to everyone who's stuck with it so far.

It took three days before Spike regained more than fragments of memory. It meant three days of starting over when it came to getting to know them. It also meant three nights of increasingly violent nightmares. They took turns sitting with Spike at night, keeping a link open between them.

When he woke the second night, Ed was sitting in a chair next to the bed. “It’s alright buddy, it was just a dream.” Spike groaned, rubbing tiredly at his eyes. “What time is it?” he mumbled, sitting up.

“Almost three am.”

Spike groaned again and sat forward, holding his head in his hands. “Was there a call on a bridge? With a woman?”

There was a strained silence. Perplexed, Spike looked up. Ed looked unhappy. “Yeah Spike, you remember that?”

“I dreamt I jumped off the bridge but… that doesn’t seem right, does it?”

Ed couldn’t meet his eyes. “You didn’t jump but you came very near to it. The woman was a Guide, brought online by a family tragedy. She and you connected somehow. And then you were standing on the ledge talking about jumping.”

That didn’t make sense to Spike. “But it doesn’t work like that. Guide emotions aren’t infectious, you can’t give someone an emotion only emphasise one that’s already there.”

“Yeah, we know that buddy.”

“Oh. You mean I… oh.” Now it was he who couldn’t meet the other man’s eyes.

The chair creaked as Ed stood and sat on the edge of the bed. “Hey now, it’s not your fault. You’d just returned from the Guide lab, you were probably feeling pretty hopeless about the whole situation. And we hadn’t exactly been welcoming up to that point. No one would blame you for looking for a way out.”

Ed’s hand clasped his and the link strengthened between them.

“Things are different now. Things will be different, I promise you.”

***

Fulfilling his promise to Spike to make things better was easier said than done, Greg thought, as he went over their training schedule. Part of the problem was the unknown, the uncertainty. They had no idea how long it would take Spike’s empathy to settle and to what degree it would settle. It made it near impossible to make concrete plans. It made it hard to have options.

The ringing of his phone was a welcome distraction. “Greg Parker.”

“Greg, it’s Leo. I found something.

“Leo, it’s good to hear from you. Found what?” The other man sounded excited.

“I’d been looking for more information on Guide empathic fields. Toth was wrong, on so many levels.”

“How’s that?” Greg’s curiosity was piqued.

“Well, he started with the assumption that Spike was unique.”

That had Greg sitting up and taking notice. “You found others.”

“Two others, at least. I had to look pretty far afield. One is in the Israeli army, came online about six years ago. Things is, the Israelis took a completely different approach to Toth. They found their most close knit special ops Sentinel team and inserted him into it. They bonded within a month. The team is still going strong today. The other, a woman, was working with the French army. Joined one of their elite Sentinel teams when she came online and bonded. Killed in action in Afghanistan early 2002.”

“What does this tell us? How does it help?” Greg asked.

“Well, for a start, it looks like the kind of Guide Spike is doesn’t come about by chance. They’re already in military or police forces when they come online. So it’s possibly an environmental adaptation. So it seems that what Spike has come about by chance is apparently what he needs for full stability and utilisation of both Sentinel and Guide skills. Bonding with multiple Sentinels within a close knit team. The Guide in the Israeli army is able to guide remotely for days, even _weeks_ at a time without need for physical contact. At distance of _miles_.”

“So how do we achieve that?” The possibility was tantalising.

“The Commander of the Special Ops team has expressed an interest in talking to you. They developed bespoke training protocols that with a little adaptation could probably help you achieve something close to what they have.”

“That… that sounds pretty fantastic. Can you set it up?”

“Of course. I’ll make some enquiries and get back to you asap.”

“Thanks Leo, I really appreciate everything you’ve been doing for us. You’ve gone above and beyond for Spike.”

“Of all the Guides I’ve seen pass through Toth’s hands, he’s suffered the most. I want to see him safe and happy.”

“That’s what we want too.” Greg reassured.

***

It took almost a week before Spike’s memory came fully to rights. In that time, he was reintroduced to Ed’s family.

Ed took him aside before they left Greg’s house. “Spike, we know about your past experience with the Sentinel’s wife. Sophie knows about it too. I need you to understand that what happened to you in the past will not be repeated. You and Sophie aren’t in competition. She’s my wife, you’re my Guide. She accepts that. She’s not about to terrorise you or make your life miserable. She wouldn’t and she knows I wouldn’t stand for it. Okay?”

Spike had gone pink as he had spoken but Ed understood the reason for his embarrassment. He opened the link between them so Spike would feel the emotion behind what he was saying. “Okay. Thanks Ed. I appreciate you letting me know so I didn’t have to go through telling you again.”

“Sure but that wasn’t the only reason I told you. I don’t want you to be scared or uncomfortable in my house and with my family. You’ve had enough of that to last anyone a lifetime.”

***

Despite Ed’s pep talk, he was still a little wary of Sophie at first. He didn’t have any memories of her but his talk with Ed had brought his previous Sentinel spouse experience to the forefront of his mind. He arrived with Ed, Greg and Sam for a meal with Sophie and Clark. He had some memories of Clark and was able to put the teenager at ease by joking about his bad driving on Grand Theft Auto. Sophie was a blank though and it wasn’t until an hour after they were reintroduced that he had a very clear memory of her. It happened mid-meal and he literally froze, fork halfway to his mouth, and stared at her.

“Spike, buddy, what’s the matter?” Ed asked.

“You taught me how to bake soda bread.” He directed his words at Sophie, who smiled, eyes lighting up. “That’s right. Amongst other things. Don’t worry, we’ll start over if they don’t all come back.”

By the end of the evening another memory had returned. He sought out Sophie who was putting dishes away in the kitchen.

“Hi Spike. You need another drink?”

“No, I’m good thanks. When the Centre Guards came to take me, we were here right?” He took a look around the room.

Sophie put down the plate in her hand and turned to him. “That’s right. We were baking together. You remember?”

Spike nodded. “I remember you were shouting and the Guard was holding you back. And before that there was a leash and pain.” He shook his head, trying to dislodge the memory. “I’m don’t think this is something I want to remember.”

“It’s part of you, of who you are now. I’m not sure you can hide from that.” Sophie seemed uncomfortable, unsure what to say and Spike felt bad for burdening her. “It’s as much a part of you as those recipes I taught you. Though, I like to think they’re more important.”

Spike looked up at that, wondering what Sophie meant. “Those memories you have of our time getting to know one another are important. They’re the foundation of our relationship. That’s not to say we can’t start over if they don’t return but if the trade off for not remembering the bad things that happened was that you lost those too, I’m not sure I’d see it as a fair trade.”

“Take the good with the bad and hope the good wins.” Spike said, as understanding dawned.

Sophie smiled at him. “Something like that. I’m sure Greg could put it better, he has a way with words.”

***

He met the rest of Team One again the following day when Greg had everyone over for dinner.

It had been tense at first, the rest of the team seemingly walking on eggshells, but the Sentinels helped bridge the distance between them, talking about training schedules and requalification.

It was Leah who asked the thus far unspoken question during their meal. “What going to happen with Dr. Toth?”

Everyone froze, most turning to look at Spike.

It was Greg who answered.

“Judge Lavelle has requested an enquiry into what happened and an external review of practices at the Guide Centre to determine if they are in line with best practice and the standards across North America.”

“They’ll whitewash it.” Spike added morosely. “Toth won’t get more than a slap on the wrist.”

“I don’t think so buddy, Dr. Lee said they’ve asked the GRW to come in and do an assessment of Guide welfare across the country.” Ed said.

That caught Spike’s interest. Guide Rights Watch were an international organisation that campaigned for Guide welfare. Countries compliant with the GRM’s code of conduct were considered places with the highest levels of Guide satisfaction and the lowest levels of Guide’s avoiding testing and registration. It was a big step.

***

Later that night, as Greg drove them home, Spike turned from where he’d been staring out the window. “Do you think they’ll listen?”

“Who’s that?” Greg asked.

“The Sentinel Guide Authority, the Guide Centre. Do you think they’ll listen to the recommendations from the GRW?”

“I hope so Spike.”

They sat in silence for a while before Greg spoke again. “There’s been something else I’ve been meaning to talk to you about. I didn’t want to speak too soon until I had more information. Your friend Leo’s been in touch. He’s found another Guide like you.”

“Like me?” Spike had always wondered but from the way Toth talked about him, he’d thought there couldn’t be another.

“Yeah. He’s in the Israeli army. He knows about you and he’d like to talk. He’s part of a Sentinel special ops team. He’s been bonded to them for almost six years. I spoke to the Team’s Commander. They have some excellent training protocols and they’ve sent them on to us. Ed and I are going to go through them and adapt them to Team One. It looks really promising.”

“He’s bonded?”

“Yeah. There was another Guide as well, in the French army, but she was killed on a mission back on ‘02. She was bonded to Sentinels in her team as well. There may be more, Leo’s still looking.”

“Is he happy, the Israeli army Guide?”

“Well, I can’t say for certain. I believe he’s married, with a child. He’s the team’s tactical entry expert. By all accounts, he reports high levels of job satisfaction and he clearly has his own life independent of his work. I’d say his chance of happiness is much the same as any us. It certainly isn’t any less.”

It was a considered answer and Spike was glad of it. He didn’t want false hope.

“Room for cautious optimism?” He asked and Greg smiled in reply. “That’s exactly right buddy, exactly right.”


	29. Backsteps

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry it has taken me so long to update this. I do fully intend to finish it and sooner rather than later (I've imposed a rule of no new stories until I finish one).

The training programme Ed and Greg created, after multiple Skype calls with the Israeli Sentinel-Guide team, started once the majority of Spike’s memory had returned. There were still times when he’d blank on things, like Winnie’s name and what team Rollie was on, but Doctor Lee came to see him and pronounced him fit to begin re-training.

There were hiccups along the way particularly when Spike’s more recent memories returned. A certain level of wariness crept in, around Ed and Donna in particular.

Ed wasn’t one to beat around the bush. He sat down next to Spike in the briefing room, noting the tension at his proximity. “Which memories?”

“I don’t understand…”

“Yes, you do. Which memories have come back?"

When Spike didn’t answer, Ed slid a hand across the back of his neck, restraining a sigh when the Guide flinched minutely beneath his hand.

“Link with me, buddy, and talk to me. Is it the first night you spent in my house, because I certainly wasn’t winning any awards for Sentinel of the Year there? Or is it just how badly we treated you those first few weeks? Maybe the stuff with Donna?”

The Guide shrugged, opening the link between them. “All of it, I guess. I keep remembering bits and pieces and then having to slot them in. I really thought…” his voice cracked. “I really thought you were going to hurt me that night. You were so angry, it was like a knife cutting into me, but then you turned it all around, you gave me back my name.”

Ed's regret came through the link clearly.

“I’m sorry, I wish I could go back and change things.” he said softly.

“I don’t.” Spike replied with conviction. “This is a better outcome than I could ever have hoped for.”

“Shouldn’t be that way.” Ed murmured, cupping the back of Spike’s neck with a warm hand.

***

“Alright, full gear and packs and let’s get out there and do some sprints.” Ed announced, to groans from the rest of the team, Spike's the loudest.

“If you’re going to try and tell me you have a headache, Mr. Scarlatti, I’m warning you now that I will link with you to confirm.” Ed said sternly. Spike rolled his eyes but smiled despite himself. “Okay, okay. What good is being a Guide if you can’t get out of sprinting?” he grumbled, heading towards the locker room.

He didn’t quite reach the door when a voice called him. “Mr. Scarlatti.” Spike turned to see Commander Holleran had arrived. He was followed by three people, two of them guards from the Centre. Spike's mouth went dry, his heart thumping fast in his chest. Sam materialised behind him seconds later while Ed and Greg had moved, putting themselves between Spike and their guests.

“Norm, what’s going on?” Greg asked, sounding affable. Ed very deliberately crossed his arms, glaring at the intruders.

“Sergeant Parker, this is Ava Kristoff who is heading the committee investigating Guide Rights.”

“Ms. Kristoff, it’s nice to meet you. We’re happy to cooperate in whatever way we can. Right now, we’re in the middle of a training exercise so if you’d like to make an appointment to set up a meeting, you can do so with Winnie.” He gestured to the dispatcher and went to turn away.

“Greg, Spike. I’m sorry,” the Commander said. “but they have a court order.”

Ed and Greg froze while Sam moved, putting himself in front of Spike.

“We’ve been through this, Commander. Spike was returned to our custody _by the courts_.” Ed said.

“This is related to a different matter.” Ava Kristoff interjected, all eyes turning to her.

“And what would that be?”

“Guide Scarlatti’s bond was unsanctioned by the Sentinel Guide Authority. The possibility of coercion is being looked into. We are here to take Guide Scarlatti into custody in order to ascertain the facts surrounding his bonding.”

“I’ve looked into it and made some calls, there isn’t any way around it. They’ve been ordered to take Spike into protective custody.” Holleran said, the regret clear in his voice.

The words were like a death sentence and Spike felt the blood drain from his face.

“They’re my _Sentinels_. I don’t need to be protected from them.” He tried to argue, hating how weak his voice sounded. Sam’s hand came to rest on his shoulder as the woman stepped forward.

“It’s necessary, Guide Scarlatti. And in line with new Guide Welfare procedures. It’s in your Sentinel’s interest to cooperate with us.”

“But is it in Spike’s? He needs to bond every twelve hours at present in order to keep his empathic field stable.” Greg pointed out.

“We can provide rescue medication to buffer his barriers,” Ms. Kristoff answered smoothly. “and we have training Guides available should the three of you need temporary buffering of your senses.”

“There will need to be some conditions.” Greg said, holding up a hand to silence Ed who appeared about to argue. The rest of Team One had filed out of the locker rooms and were flanking them, watching the to and fro of conversation with some confusion.

“Conditions?” Ms. Kristoff seemed surprised.

“Yes. Guide Scarlatti is not to be leashed under any circumstances. He’s not to be physically restrained. He is not to be subjected to any invasive medical procedures, including lumbar punctures and subdermal field monitoring.”

Greg took a breath as if to continue, but she waved him off.

“I understand what you’re saying. If Guide Scarlatti is cooperative there won’t be any need for a leash to be used. And no invasive medical procedures will be performed without good reason.”

“Not good enough.” Ed spoke up, pulling out his phone. “I’m calling our lawyer, right now. Spike isn’t going anywhere until we’ve spoken to him.”

“Guide Scarlatti is to be placed in our custody immediately.” Ms. Kristoff’s voice became steely, her eyes narrowing.

“Not until we’ve had proper assurances that he won’t be harmed. Our past experience has told us that the threshold for what is considered 'noncooperation' and 'good reason' in the Guide Centre is extremely low. Sam, take Spike into the briefing room and stay with him.” Greg said. Ed had moved off to the side, speaking quietly into his phone before hanging up, shaking his head.

“Greg, I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to hand him over, now.” Commander Holleran interrupted, moving to block Sam and Spike's exit.

Ms. Kristoff stepped forward, nodding with satisfaction.

“But only once Ms. Kristoff supplies a written statement guaranteeing that Spike will not be subjected to _any_ physical discipline, including leashing, or invasive medical testing for _any_ reason.” Norm continued.

Ms. Kristoff looked from him to the Sentinels, taking in their determination before finally capitulating. “Fine. Get me a pen and paper.”

Winnie slammed both down on the counter, glaring daggers at the woman, but she seemed impervious to the anger in the room, picking up the pen and writing quickly.

“There.” She slid it towards them. “I’m sure you’ll find it satisfactory.”

Greg read it, Ed peering over his shoulder, then he handed it to Commander Holleran.

“Norm…”

“I know Greg, I’m sorry. You can have a few minutes with Spike.”

Ava Kristoff opened her mouth to object but, catching sight of the look on Commander Holleran’s face, wisely didn't argue.

“Five minutes, then I _insist_ we must be allowed to take Guide Scarlatti back to the Centre.”

Sam put two hands on Spike’s shoulders and propelled him into the briefing room. He linked to Spike with a hand on his neck as Ed and Greg followed them inside. Greg sealed the room as Ed linked to Spike with a palm pressed to his shoulder.

Greg moved towards them, two hands catching Spike’s face gently and opening the link wide between them, sending waves of reassurance.

“Spike, it’s going to be okay. We’ll get you out of there as soon as we can. We’ll send Doctor Lee in to check on you if we aren’t allowed to come ourselves and we’ll get Laurence James on the case”

Spike could feel, behind their reassurance, fear, frustration and a strong sense of helplessness.

He tried to reassure them in turn.

“I’ll be okay. I’m sure this will all be sorted out in a day or two.”

He knew they could tell he was simply putting on a brave face but they didn’t call him on it.

Greg enveloped him in a tight hug. “Just hold on. Keep the link open for as long as you can but don’t overtax yourself. Ask for the rescue medication as soon as you start to feel emotions bleed through, don’t wait for it to get bad.”

He nodded against Greg’s shoulder. “I won’t, I promise.”

There was a sharp rap on the door.

“Time to go.” Spike said, trying to sound lighthearted despite his fear.

Ed opened the doors.

“Hold on, it’s cold out, let me get his jacket.”

Ms. Kristoff was unhappy with the additional delay, tapping her foot impatiently against the floor.

Ed was back in less than a minute and helped Spike into his coat. Spike was glad for the help, his hands shaking so badly it would have been a struggle. Ed pulled the the coat snugly onto Spike’s shoulders and let his hands rest there for a moment. “You’re _our_ Guide. Remember that. We _will_ come for you.”

Sam handed Spike his bag which he took with a nod of thanks, slinging it over his shoulder. The guards stepped forward and Spike detached himself.

“I’m cooperating, see?” He said, holding up his hands for exaggerated effect.

“This way, Guide Scarlatti.” Ava Kristoff said in a sing-song voice that had the three Sentinels wincing.

Sighing, Spike moved to stand beside her and followed when she walked towards the door, the guards trailing them closely.

Members of Team Three were just coming in. They frowned at the spectacle, asking Spike if he was okay. “Everything’s fine guys.” He reassured them, marvelling at how easily the lie came to his lips.

Instead of a van there was a car and he was ushered in to the backseat next to Ms. Kristoff. She asked a few questions but when he didn’t answer, the journey continued in silence.

His chest was tight as they pulled up outside the Guide Centre. His every effort to stay out of their hands seemed to be in vain, they just kept finding ways to bring him back.

When he hesitated in getting out of the car, the guard roughly dragged him out by the arm, sending him stumbling towards the door with a shove. “ _Move_ , Guide.”

“That’s _enough_ , Guard Hill.” Ms. Kristoff reprimanded.

Once inside, he and Ms. Kristoff parted ways. He was registered in the customary manner, brought to a room and given trousers and a gown to wear. He refused, at first.

“I’m not here for medical testing so I’ll keep my own clothes on, thanks.”

His resolve was strong as he mustered up as much anger as he could about his circumstances. The nurse left the room and Spike thought he’d won that round but it turned out she didn’t take too well to his lack of compliance.

She returned with two guards.

“Change now. Or I _will_ have these guards strip you.”

He steeled himself, calling her bluff. A mistake, as seconds later one Guard was holding him while the other roughly pulled his jacket off his shoulders.

Knowing fighting would be a mistake, he didn’t resist as they stripped him, closing his eyes so he wouldn’t have to see the looks on their faces.

When he opened them, they were gone, and the nurse was standing in the doorway, arms folded, the clothes held loosely in her hands. He resisted the urge to cover himself, shivering from the cold of the room.

She threw the clothes to the floor at his feet.

“You can dress in those or you can stay naked. Your choice.”

The door slammed shut behind her as she left.

Leaning down, he picked up the thin clothes, dressing hurriedly before sitting on the edge of the bed. The floor was cold under his bare feet and not getting any warmer. Shifting backwards, he bent his knees and curled them up against his chest, wrapping his arms around them. It didn’t do much stem the cold leeching into this skin but it gave him some comfort.

One step forwards, two steps back. And somehow the path always led him here.


	30. Versions of the Truth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still writing, just slowly...

The first sign that this wasn’t the standard Centre visit was when they escorted him from the cell. Instead of bringing him to the lab, as he had expected, they brought him to what looked like an interview room. Ava Kristoff was there, alongside a man Spike didn’t know.

“Guide Scarlatti, please take a seat.” Ava gestured to the lone chair on one side of the table. Spike sat and waited.

“This is Dr. Brown, our Sentinel-Guide psychologist. We’re here to talk to you about the circumstances of your bond. There have been… questions.”

The other man nodded in greeting but stayed silent.

“What do you want to know?” Spike asked warily.

“Talk us through how you came to be bonded.” Dr. Brown said.

So he did, approaching it like he was giving evidence in court, sticking to the facts. His encounter with the new Guide, his field instability, his Sentinels tracking him down and finding him, removing him from the Centre and bonding with him.

Dr. Brown asked questions to clarify, specifically around what Spike remembered of the period before the bonding and the bonding itself. He kept it simple, articulating the pain he’d experienced from the attempts to reset his fields through the subdermal monitor, the relief at it being removed, his worsening field instability and the painless stability that the bond had resulted in.

“But it would be true to say you didn’t consent to bonding?” Ms. Kristoff asked.

“My Sentinels made very effort to get agreement from me but I was having difficulty remaining conscious. They did what they felt they needed to do to protect me, spare me further pain.”

“I see. But you are aware they didn’t apply for permission to enter into a bond as would be considered normal procedure. And they didn’t register your bond afterwards.”

“There wasn’t time to apply for permission and Dr. Toth was made aware of the bond within the first twenty four hours.”

“So you agree they didn’t follow the proper channels?”

“It was under very unusual circumstances.” Spike kept his cool, knowing they were trying to put him on the defensive.

“And a very unusual bond.” Dr. Brown interjected. “The same Guide bonded to three different Sentinels.”

“That’s the nature of my ability to Guide, as I’m sure you know from Dr. Toth’s extensive testing.”

“And,” Dr. Brown continued. “is there any other aspect of the bond that could be considered unusual?”

“Not that I know of.” Spike replied, unsure what they were getting at.

“So you were bonded by force and without agreement to three Sentinels with military and law enforcement backgrounds. A bond we know to be of an unusual type.”

“There was no force used to bond with me.” Spike retorted.

“But neither you or the Sentinel-Guide Authority consented.” Ms. Kristoff said.

Dr. Brown sat forward, hands pressed together.

“Guide Scarlatti, there are concerns. I understand what we are discussing may be uncomfortable for you but your welfare is our primary concern.”

Spike looked between the doctor and Ms. Kristoff, at a loss as to where the conversation was heading.

“We know that sometimes bonds between Sentinel and Guide can be manipulated. The ties between teams like yours are close and tight-knit and sometimes the Sentinel-Guide relationship becomes twisted. Guides with strong empathic fields are particularly vulnerable to this.”

Spike was tired of them tiptoeing around whatever it was they wanted to say. “You’re going to have to be clear about what it is you’re asking, because I’m not following.”

“We’re talking about a sexual relationship with your Sentinels. To which you did not consent.” Ava Kristoff said bluntly.

Spike was momentarily stunned. “What? What would make you think…”

“It is a lot more widespread than you’d imagine. And is a common reason for bonding without prior authorisation because it is known that the dangers of chemical dissolution of the bond mean it’s not something that can be done lightly.”

“Well, you’re completely on the wrong track if you think I have that kind of relationship with my Sentinels.” Spike said clearly.

Dr. Brown spoke soothingly. “Guide Scarlatti, you’re not considered to be capable of consent under these circumstances. As a Guide, you are in a most vulnerable position. Your Sentinels took advantage of that.”

“My Sentinels have never had sex with me.” Spike spat out.

Dr. Brown kept talking in that soothing voice that was now grating on Spike’s nerves.

“We’re very glad to hear that. And I’m sure you’ll be happy to undergo an examination to confirm that.”

Spike rocked back in his chair, stumbling over his words. “No, no! No invasive medical examinations. You agreed.” The look he shot Ava Kristoff was poisonous. “I’m telling you my Sentinels have never touched me like that. My word should be enough.”

“Sentinels taking sexual advantage of their Guides is a violation of the trust between them. It exploits the Guide’s vulnerability. And for a Guide such as you, for whom bond dissolution failed and can’t be retried, being honest about your situation would be difficult given your dependency on your Sentinels for effective shielding.” Dr. Brown kept talking.

“Forcing me to undergo an invasive medical examination would also be a violation.” Spike argued.

“We could sedate you, if that would make you more comfortable?” The doctor offered.

The thought of people touching him while he was unconscious sent his stomach flip-flopping.

“No, it doesn’t. I’m not giving my consent for that.”

He ran a hand through his hair, trying to get his thoughts straight.

“Think about it. If they were abusing me, why did I resist the attempt to dissolve the bond? Why didn’t I ask Dr. Toth to bring me back to the lab when he located us just after bonding?”

“Some Guides can be… perverted by their empathy. They argue that a sexual relationship with a Sentinel is natural. A period of retraining for the Guide usually corrects these notions.”

“Why are you doing this?” Spike asked plaintively. “My bond with my Sentinels is purely platonic.”

Ava Kristoff sighed. “We’d like to believe you Guide Scarlatti. Agree to a medical examination and the question can be put to rest.”

It was an odd thing to insist on. Spike could only see one reason they’d be doing so. Not because they thought it was the truth, but because their report would read otherwise, giving them a clear reason not to return him to his Sentinels.

He shook his head, adamant. “No invasive medical examinations.”

***

It has been a frustrating morning and the early afternoon was spent pacing the halls of the courthouse. James was in talking to the judge on their behalf, the Centre’s lawyer also present. They’d tried to get Judge Lavelle but she wasn’t available. James wasn’t too pleased with the judge they had been assigned.

“We have visitation rights.” James announced as the stepped out of the court room. “A proper hearing will be held tomorrow. The Centre have made some unusual requests - let’s talk somewhere more private.”

He led them down a few corridors to an empty room, ushering them inside.

“The Centre has raised some concerns about the nature of your bond. They’re alleging Spike was coerced into the bond. And that it may be abusive in nature.”

“We’ve already been through this.” Ed interjected. “And been vindicated. We never laid a hand on him.”

“They’re alleging sexual abuse.”

There was a stunned silence from all three Sentinels.

“They requested that Spike undergo a full medical examination but he is refusing and the letter Ms. Kristoff signed prevents them carrying out one by force.”

“Spike isn’t saying there was sexual abuse, is he?” Greg asked, bewildered at the turn of events but concerned it could have something to do with Spike's recent memory problems.

“No, he is flat out denying it, but they’re using his refusal to consent to an exam as proof that there is something to the allegation.”

“But we can go and see him?”

“Yes, they’ve agreed to visiting hours from four to six this evening to allow for bonding, under supervision.”

“They’re going to watch us bond?” Sam asked, looking discomfited.

“Arguing against that right now would draw suspicion. They’ll watch from an adjacent room, you’ll have privacy to talk to Spike.”

“It’s almost three-thirty, we should get going.” Ed said.

***

Spike spent another few hours cooling his heels in his cell. The guards didn’t like him calling it that, which personally he found amusing.

“If the door locks behind me and I’m not free to leave, that’s a cell. A room implies the ability to come and go.”

His backtalk had earned him a vice like grip to his shoulder and a hard shove into the cell, sending him to his knees. When he tried to get up, the guard spoke in warning. “Stay there or I will knock you to the floor.”

The first thirty minutes were uncomfortable but bearable. His lunch was delivered, left on the floor next to the door. When he tried to get it, the guard returned, and Spike ended up sprawled on the floor. The lunch tray was removed, untouched, after half an hour and still Spike knelt. His knees ached from the hard floor beneath them, his shoulder and back from the rough handling of the guard. Cold seeped through his body. The minutes ticked by slowly.

The door opened again and Spike didn’t move. It was too soon for dinner which probably meant the guard was back.

A hand touched his shoulder and he flinched.

“Spike?” The voice was soft, cautious, and familiar.

He looked up. “Greg?” The Sentinel’s worried face peered down at him.

“Yeah, buddy. Can you stand?”

His legs were numb and standing sent painful pins and needles shooting through them.

Greg’s warm hands supported him, helping him sit on the side of the bed.

The Sentinel crouched next to him. “You’re cold. Here, let’s get your warmed up.” He pulled his own jacket off and wrapped it tightly around the Guide.

“I don’t suppose you’re here to take me home?” he asked, failing to manage a smile.

Greg’s hands rubbed briskly up and down his arms, trying to get some heat into him.

“I’m sorry Spike. They’ve agreed to supervised visits to allow us to bond, that’s all. Here, come on..”

He guided Spike to his feet and towards the door, a hand wrapped around his shoulders.

The Guard outside the door protested.

“It’s freezing, we can’t bond in here. I want a bonding suite and I want to talk to Dr. Richards.”

***

There was a brief stand-off between Sergeant Parker and the Guard before Dr. Richards was called and defused the situation neatly. They ended up in a bonding suite with Sam and Ed. All three Sentinels were on edge, monitoring Spike keenly with their senses.

“Why is he so cold?” Sam asked.

“His room was freezing. They had him kneeling on the floor.”

“What?” Hands cupped his cheeks, Ed’s eyes searching as he opened the link between them. “Did they hurt you?”

Spike shook his head. “Roughed me up a little, that’s all.”

“That’s all?”

All he could do was shrug. It wasn’t enough to satisfy Ed, hands and eyes checking every piece of skin within reach. He caught Spike’s wince when his hand contacted the bruise on his shoulder and moved aside the gown, running fingers along the darkening skin.

“Damn. Spike, Doctor Lee is here, we’d like him to check you over and document any injuries, okay?”

He looked to Sam and Greg, who both nodded in agreement with Ed.

“They want to do an exam.”

“We heard.”

“I think they’re planning to falsify the results. Use it as a way to control me.”

“We think the same. There’s going to be a court hearing tomorrow. You’re going to be there too. We’re hoping to get this all cleared up and get you out of here.”

“And if it doesn’t get cleared up?” Spike had to ask.

“An exam may become necessary. But we’d insist on it being someone outside of the Centre. Maybe Doctor Lee if you were comfortable with that?”

Spike wasn’t comfortable with the idea at all, but if it became absolutely necessary he’d take anyone over the Centre’s doctors.

“I hate that they can do this. That they can keep doing this. When will it end?” He was ashamed to find tears trailing down his cheeks. Greg pulled him close and wrapped arms around him, one hand coming up to rest on Spike’s neck, opening the link between them. “We’ll get through this.” The Sentinel whispered in his ear. “They’re clutching at straws if this is the argument they’re going with. It’ll all fall apart soon enough.”

“But how much of me will be left by the time they’re done?” Spike whispered back, one hand clutching Greg’s shirt as the Sentinel sent comforting emotions through the bond.

The minutes ticked by too fast, as Doctor Lee examined him and he and the Sentinels bonded. Half an hour in, when Ed learned Spike hadn’t eaten lunch, he’d stormed from the room.

When he returned, Spike was torn between asking what he’d done and not wanting to know. Anything his Sentinels did, the Guards would take out on him.

“It’s okay, Spike.” Ed had reassured him, sensing his apprehension through the link. “I just had a word with Dr. Richards. About ensuring your nutritional needs were being met. And then I ordered take out. Pizza will be here in a half hour.”

So they’d bonded some more, eaten pizza and finished the meal off with ice-cream. Despite their surroundings, the sense of normality helped restore some of Spike’s equilibrium.

“What happens tomorrow?” he asked again, when Greg announced they’d ten minutes left.

“We all go to court. The Centre makes their case, we make ours. Judge Lavelle will consider all sides and make a ruling. It might just be an interim one, while more investigations happen.”

“Or it might be more permanent? Like they could separate us or extend my stay here indefinitely?”

“That’s worst case scenario, Spike. And Judge Lavelle was there when they broke the bond the last time, she watched what happened to us while you were here close to death. She has a clearer insight into this than most others.”

They spent the last few minutes in companionable silence, Sam’s warm hand on his shoulder holding the link between them steady.

Two sharp raps on the door signalled the end of their visit. Reluctantly, all four of them stood and made their way to the door.

“We’ll see you tomorrow Spike. Try and get some rest.” They each said goodbye and the Sentinels were led one way while Spike was brought another, back to his cell.

The guard he’d had the run in with earlier in the day was back, waiting by his door.

“Well, Guide Scarlatti, Dr. Richards has been speaking to your Sentinels. She says no more kneeling so you don’t kneel anymore.”

The Guard's tone was just a shade too affable as he walked Spike inside the room.

“You stand. Right here.” He shoved Spike into a corner. “We’ll be watching, all night. You move from this corner, you will regret it.”

The door to his cell slammed shut as the guard left. Spike heaved a sigh, leaning sideways so his head and shoulder were braced against the wall. It would be a long night.


End file.
